


Family Matters

by Calcitron



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood Magic, Blood Magic Babies, Domestic Fluff, For Science!, Halward Pavus Being an Asshole, Halward Pavus' A+ Parenting, It's getting ridiculously fluffy, Just the one baby actually, Kid Fic, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-06-09 13:39:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 38,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6909634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calcitron/pseuds/Calcitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dorian's personal quest goes a bit differently and he and Cullen find themselves with an infant daughter to raise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Halward

**Author's Note:**

> A few points before we begin:
> 
> 1) I have been waiting patiently for Child of Mine by the trash hero to update, but since it's been almost a year I bit the bullet and wrote my own story about Dorian and Cullen having a magic baby. Or rather, magically having a baby. Well, she might be both, but it'll be awhile before they figure that out. Probably after the story has ended. Anyway, this story is inspired by that one, but not at all like it, ultimately. 
> 
> 2) I have not finished a story that I have started since the last creative writing assignment I had in college. But I have to write all the time for work so I'm sure it'll be fine, right guys? 
> 
> 3) I actually have a baby myself, so most of the baby stuff is based on my experiences over the past year. So if you're reading this and you're all like "yo, babies don't pull that shit," I can guarangoddamntee you that I know one who does. I thought it'd be a fun exercise to use this story as sort of a pseudo-journal of all the cute things my daughter does. She's really cute.
> 
> 4) I have about 6-7 chapters of this written, so I can promise you here and now that I will at least get these two together. After that, I make no promises.

“That is why I bring this to you, Commander. It is a sensitive matter and I think you see that reuniting a father and son is an honorable cause.”

Though the words were spoken softly, the assumptions hidden within grated at Cullen. Furthermore, Cullen  _ didn't _ particularly see why Mother Giselle had flagged him down in the main hall at breakfast to discuss this intensely personal matter. He and Dorian had spent several pleasant afternoons over chess in the garden, but he hardly thought that made him an authority on the man’s personal life. More likely, the Revered Mother felt his time as a Templar would make him more pliable to her requests and more likely to presume to know what course of action was best for the mage.

“Isn't this something you should be discussing with Dorian?” he asked brusquely, growing increasingly irritated with the presumptiveness of the Mother. 

The Mother glanced at him briefly before looking away, clearly having hoped to avoid that particular question. “The young man’s father does not wish us to inform him. He fears that if Dorian were to know the purpose of the meeting that he would not come. Besides he … does not care for me.”

Ah. She was definitely trying to play to his Templar tendencies, then. Cullen’s frown deepened.

“May I see this request for myself?”

“Certainly, Commander. I leave it to you to judge what is best.”

Cullen turned and quickly left the main hall to mask the doubt and discomfort that was likely plastered all over his face. He had little confidence in his ability to identify right from wrong, especially when it regarded the fate of a mage.

Still, he couldn’t just ignore the missive. It would have to be brought to Dorian’s attention and as soon as possible, as the man was due to depart with the Inquisitor that afternoon. He dispatched a runner and before Cullen had even begun to compose his thoughts Dorian was sauntering into his office.

“I hope you haven't summoned me here to continue to debate the validity of Tevinter Standard Rules of Chess, Commander. Accusations of cheating do not become you.” Dorian’s sly grin began to slip as Cullen thrust the letter into his hands without preamble. “Now what's this?”

“A letter from your father. It seems your family has been in contact with the Revered Mother. I thought you should know.”

Dorian barely acknowledged the statement as he glared fiercely at the parchment and skimmed quickly through its contents. “I know my son!” he burst out in disbelief. “What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble. This is so typical.” Dorian began to pace the length of Cullen’s office in agitation.

“I can have some of our men in Redcliffe ensure this retainer is sent on his way. There is no need for you to deal with this personally. ” Cullen offered.

“Nonsense, it would be so much more entertaining to hear what my father thinks could possibly send me crawling home. I know I promised Adaar that I'd help with some magical artifacts in the Fallow Mire, but I need to dispense with this unpleasantness first. Would you mind passing on my regrets? Conveniently, I'm already packed, so I'll be on my way immediately.”

Dorian turned and was halfway out the door before Cullen had thought to stop him, but he managed to catch the mage in time, grabbing his upper arm and turning him back towards the desk.

“Dorian, wait a minute. You can't be thinking of going alone. This could easily be a trap.”

“Almost certainly,” Dorian agreed, crossing his arms in irritation at being delayed. “But forewarned is forearmed. My talents and charm should be more than sufficient to dispatch any paid retainer my father has scrounged up. Don't worry, Commander, I'll be just fine.”

Cullen made a small noise of frustration, his expression becoming stormy at Dorian’s dismissive attitude. “At least take someone with you! You're being needlessly reckless. Perhaps Bull or Sera? I can send some men—“

“No,” Dorian interrupted, abruptly. Cullen thought he caught a bit of strain around the edges of Dorian’s eyes before his careless façade fell back into place. “It’s best if I deal with this myself. It is quite likely to get messy. I wouldn’t want anyone else to have to suffer the company of the House Pavus.”

Cullen adopted his most stern demeanor, recognizing that Dorian seemed determined to get himself killed to save himself some embarrassment. “Be reasonable, Dorian. I absolutely cannot allow you to go to this meeting alone. As I’m already involved, you’ve no need to worry about my opinion. My duties normally keep me here, but for this I can make an exception. I can be ready in an hour. I’ll meet you by the main gate, shall I?”

Dorian stared at him gape-mouthed for almost a full second before closing his mouth and nodding once. “It seems you have me in checkmate for the second time this week. Fine, I can concede when I’m beaten gracefully. I’ll see you in an hour’s time.”

***

The journey to Redcliffe was blessedly brief, as it had been some months since Cullen had last spent any significant time in the saddle. As they neared the town, Dorian grew noticeably agitated, continually fidgeting and smoothing his moustache in a distracted way. The sight was quite disconcerting for Cullen, who had never known the mage to abandon his charming mask even in the face of certain death. It made Cullen doubly glad that he’d insisted on accompanying the other man to ensure someone was watching out for danger. Dorian was too emotionally compromised to look out for himself and the midday bustle of a thriving town could house all number of unwelcome surprises even when one hadn’t received a suspicious summons to attend a secretive meeting.

Before they walked up to the tavern he put a hand on Dorian’s shoulder to pull him aside. “It’s not too late to simply head back to Skyhold.” Cullen knew his attempt at dissuasion was futile, but he had to do everything he could to keep Dorian from throwing himself into needless danger.

Dorian’s expression seemed to harden slightly. “I cannot have agents of my father dogging my every step for the rest of my life. This ends here.” With that, Dorian brushed Cullen aside and marched into the Gull & Lantern without so much as a backwards glance.

The tavern was dim and eerily silent. As Dorian stepped through the entryway, the door slammed itself shut behind him. Dorian had a barrier up in a moment’s time, but it couldn’t protect against the ancient glyphs drawn in blood underneath his feet. He could already feel a paralyzingly powerful magic crawling its way up his legs and through his magical wards. Fury and adrenaline slammed through Dorian as he quickly pieced together his father’s intention to attempt the abhorrent blood magic ritual that had driven him from Tevinter a second time.

“Not even going to show yourself this time, father?” he taunted to the empty room. “You could at least bother to personally verify whether your blasphemous ritual is successful. Perhaps send in a maid to wipe up the drooling vegetable it leaves behind.” A loud thumping sounded behind him, but Dorian was too focused on the figure that had appeared across the room to notice anything else.

“I didn’t want it to come to this, Dorian.” Magister Halward Pavus shook his head sadly as he emerged from the shadows. “You were always so bright and talented, I had hoped you would move past your rebellious behavior and do what was best for the family. But this Inquisition nonsense, Dorian? You will tarnish the family name beyond repair! I cannot allow it. You  _ will _ be made to obey, child.” Halward drew a small knife across his wrist and began to entone what was undoubtedly the incantations necessary to complete the spell.

Dorian had hoped to keep his father talking longer. He had almost smudged away a good portion of one of the glyphs with the small movements his foot was still capable of. The barrier hadn’t prevented the paralysis spell from working, but it had dampened and slowed the spell’s effects. With some luck, Dorian was nearly positive he could disrupt the spell sufficiently to break loose before his father could complete the ritual.

At that moment, the door exploded in a shower of splinters and Cullen barreled into the room and straight into the magically paralyzed Dorian. Due to the effects of the runes at his feet, Dorian remained mostly upright and the Commander’s momentum, unable to carry him through his intended path, ricocheted him flat on his ass, just inside the blood circle. Cullen leapt to his feet, smearing the runes further and covering himself in blood as he readied his sword to deal with Halward. Within the maelstrom of panic and adrenaline, Dorian nearly laughed that a literal knight in shining armor was coming to his rescue. 

The dramatic entrance of a third party had not broken the senior Pavus’ concentration and he uttered the final words of his incantation just before Cullen stepped out of the circle. There was a loud crack as the remaining runes flared to life around the two men. Blinding pain shot through them both, as though a small piece of each man were being torn out and recombined. Moments passed, or possibly hours, and when the pain finally began to ebb away, Dorian found himself collapsed on the ground, mostly underneath a snarling Inquisition Commander who, even from his prone position, had readied his sword against the elder Pavus.

“I have agents surrounding this inn. If you do not leave in the next 30 seconds they will take you into custody of the Inquisition where the Inquisitor will likely feed you to into the nearest fade rift.” Although the Commander was bluffing and sprawled in a heap, he somehow managed to exude a formidable amount of menace.

“Best do as he says, Father. Your grotesque ritual has failed yet again.” said Dorian as he attempted to crawl out from under Cullen.

Halward only spared a moment to examine the wasted remains of the botched ritual in front of him before turning on his heels and stalking from the inn. “You will be brought to heel, son!” he called out as he fled. “I will not allow you to destroy everything our family has built.” Then he was gone.

Dorian barely heard his father’s threats, too distracted by the lump that he had misidentified moments earlier as Cullen’s knee. It was, in actuality, the head of an infant child. A whimpering infant child with pale skin, a shock of dark hair, and murky brown eyes. A choking sort of gasp forced its way past Dorian’s lips as he sucked in air, forgetting how to breathe in his shock. Cullen turned at the sound and nearly fell back over onto the babe as he started in surprise.

“Dorian….what—“ Cullen could not continue. His brain refused to form the thought that it knew to be impossible.

“I think she has your eyes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the part of the story I'm happiest with. It all goes down hill from here, writing wise.


	2. Solona

Dorian could not recall how he returned to Skyhold. He remembered lifting his child— _ his child _ —into his arms as she began to cry. He was completely enthralled by her tiny form, every miniature toe, every wisp of hair, even the strangely visible vein running across her left cheek was totally fascinating.

Were it not for the Commander’s presence, he would likely still be sitting on the taproom floor staring at the screaming baby with no inkling of what to do next. Luckily the Inquisition’s Commander was full of surprising talents, including rudimentary childcare. Despite his obvious shock, Cullen focused on the practicalities so as to avoid considering the impossibilities. A nanny goat was acquired from a cheerful one-eyed man in the neighboring home and blankets, bottles, and other miscellaneous accessories from a shop down the street. Meanwhile Dorian sat with their horses and discovered that his amatus seemed to enjoy suckling on his pinkie finger.

She liked the bottle much better, however. Dorian briefly fretted over the use of goat milk, but Cullen assured him that it was the best available and much better than nothing. The Commander mentioned something about a member of the kitchen staff that had recently given birth perhaps being able to assist them, but Dorian had become distracted by the sleepy little coos that his daughter made when she was finished with her bottle and satiated. He paid a bit more attention as the Commander showed him how to fold a diaper and helped him fashion a sling from one of the new blankets, but not so much that he heard Cullen’s attempt to inquire as to how any of this was possible.

It was quite late when they rode back into Skyhold, the stable empty of other inhabitants, even its resident Warden. Dorian suddenly came to the realization that he and the Commander would soon part ways and he desperately grabbed at the other man’s wrist.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he pleaded, naked panic covering his face and for once he didn’t bother to hide it. “I’m not sure I’ve ever spent a minute alone with a baby. You can’t leave me alone. I’ll break her, I--“

“Dorian,” Cullen cut him off, grabbing him by both shoulders, “You’re babbling. Of course I’ll help. I—“ he broke off, staring down at the sleeping face of the tiny girl. “She’s my child, too,” he finished, softly.

They agreed that Dorian could spare Cullen a few minutes to grab some necessities from his loft and that they would then reconvene at Dorian’s room. Between the hole in the roof, the holes in the floor, the three doors moving soldiers in and out at all hours, and the ladder, Cullen’s spartan space was summarily dismissed as completely unfit for an infant.

Dorian was still navigating his first solo diaper change when Cullen reappeared, now out of his armor and looking like the unfathomable events of the day were finally catching up with him. Somewhat distractedly, he corrected Dorian’s placement of the diaper pins as he stroked the little girl’s hair.

“What are we going to call her?” he asked, abruptly breaking the silence.

Dorian had found the sight of the Commander out of armor to be very nearly the most disconcerting event of the whole day. That was, until he glanced up at Cullen’s comment to see the look of intense affection he directed towards the babe. Dorian firmly redirected his attention and swirling feelings to the infant as well, addressing her directly, “A name. Of course, how silly of me. We can’t just keep calling you Amatus, now can we, my dear?”

“I had a thought, if you don’t mind.” Cullen continued to gaze at the baby, neatly avoiding eye contact with Dorian. 

Dorian was a bit surprised, not expecting such forthrightness from the reserved man. “By all means, Commander, though I don’t promise to agree.”

“You may have heard about my time at Kinloch Hold. During the blight.”

Dorian raised a single brow at that, as, from what he knew, it didn’t seem like something of which the Commander would like being reminded. “There were a few rumors on the subject. Knowing the rumor mill as I do, I pay them little mind.”

“Yes well … I was acquainted with the Hero of Ferelden while there. Before she joined the Wardens she was part of the Ferelden Circle. She, um…well I owe her my life and I thought perhaps we could honor her and her sacrifice.”

“A noble sentiment. I’d expect no less from you, Commander.” The compliment brought a slight blush to Cullen’s cheeks, though it went unnoticed by the rest of the room’s occupants. “Still, though, I’m not sure I care for Amell.”

“Oh, no. Her first name was Solona. I always thought it was a pretty name.”

“It is, indeed. I find I quite like how utterly un-Tevinter it is, too. I wouldn’t want my father getting it into his head that something good came from his unconscionable machinations.” Dorian lifted the babe up from the table and handed her to Cullen. “Solona it is, then. Excellent suggestion, Commander.”

“You can use my first name, too.” Cullen suggested distractedly, captivated with the small bundle he was holding for the first time that day.

“Ah. Yes, of course, Cullen,” Dorian replied awkwardly. He then tried to cover his surprise with more words. “It does seem like we may be getting to know one another quite well in the coming months. You will be staying the night here, yes? Hopefully we can start generating some more interesting rumors for your reputation,” he added, with a wink.

“I won't leave you to do this alone, Dorian,” Cullen promised sincerely, seemingly impervious to the light flirtation, though the blush didn’t fade. “I apologize in advance for my poor bed habits. I… have nightmares sometimes. Perhaps you should go borrow my rooms while I take the night shift as I sleep very little most nights.” 

Dorian shook his head. “I won't hear of it. Besides, I could never sleep with that hole in the ceiling. I'd catch my death in the first evening. I think we can make do here, so long as you don't snore.”

“We'll have worse than my snoring to contend with for some time yet,” Cullen pointed out wryly. “Solona will be up every two or three hours for a few weeks at least, probably more. Your odds for our next chess match aren't looking good,” he added, with a smirk. 

The unexpected joke startled a laugh out of Dorian. “Such sass! You best be careful or Solona and I will kick you out.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Cullen declared, smiling confidently now, “I bet you haven’t even thought of how we’ll bed her down without any bassinet.”

Dorian frowned. “I suppose you’re right. We can’t very well hold her indefinitely.”

With only a few rearrangements, the two managed to create a very cozy nest of blankets for Solona. However, there was very little floor space remaining. “I see your plot now, Commander. You’ve been angling to get into my bed this whole time. I’m shocked that you would be so unprofessional, especially in front of a child.” His feigned distress didn’t stop Dorian from immediately burrowing under the covers, evening preparations complete. It had been an eventful day.

Cullen huffed out a small laugh, though a telling blush belied his casual demeanor as he arranged himself carefully under Dorian’s silken sheets, in such a way as to be able to easily see Solona’s sleeping form. “Go to sleep, Dorian. I’ll take the first feeding.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what the nipples to these bottles would be made from. I'm sure there was some sort of solution--it's not like babies didn't need to be bottle fed before formula. I didn't bother to google it, though, so I guess I'll never know. They should just be glad I didn't give one of them magical, milk-making mammaries. Nursing, especially the first few weeks, is rough.


	3. Dorian

A week later the two men were looking decidedly haggard. They had tried to cobble together a sort of schedule so that Solona’s night feedings were fairly distributed. However, the three of them sharing a room meant that everyone woke up regardless of whose turn it was to feed the baby. Cullen occasionally spent the night in his loft, at Dorian’s insistence, but would return in the wee hours of the morning claiming he was awake anyway. Dorian was never surprised, not just because Cullen was uncomfortable with taking any rest for himself, but because Dorian was also having difficulty sleeping. On the rare occasions when he slept long enough to dream, Dorian had horrible stress-induced nightmares of dropping Solona or accidentally crushing her in his sleep. Based on Cullen’s sleep-talking, his dreams were in much the same vein.

 The true enemy of sleep, though, remained his daughter. Solona, Dorian was learning, hated it when other people, especially her parents, tried to sleep. She could happily snooze for hours resting against his chest, but the second Dorian tried to put her into her crib she would emit a bloodcurdling shriek. Cullen insisted that she needed to learn to sleep on a non-human surface, but Dorian had yet to make it more than five minutes before rescuing Solona from the horrors of her bed. Perhaps the child would need to learn that the world was cold and cruel, but surely not, Dorian reasoned, at the tender age of seven days.

 In the meanwhile, both men were finding it increasingly easy to sleep wherever they happened to be—standing in the war room, leaned casually against a bookshelf, or even at the dinner table, heaping spoon mid-way to the receiving mouth. Sleeping in the library wasn't terribly risky for Dorian, but napping on the job for Cullen lent a comical edge to his command. One morning, Cullen kept the recruits running a blocking drill for a full thirty minutes as he'd fallen asleep leaning against the training ring fence. Cassandra had eventually come in to rescue the recruits and had assisted every morning since.

 Cassandra wasn’t the only member of the Inquisition’s inner circle to come to their aid. With some notable exceptions, everyone had been remarkably accepting and helpful. The day after their return from Redcliffe, Cole had suddenly appeared to comfort Solona, who had started crying when Dorian had laid her down to dress himself for the day. Luckily Cullen had departed to summon the other advisors to the war room, else he might have drawn his sword on the young man. Dorian had grown used to Cole’s stealthy appearances and hadn’t even startled when he saw a telltale oversized hat out of the corner of his eye. While Dorian didn’t think he’d entrust full childcare responsibilities to Cole--even the man himself had said he was afraid he’d break her--he was very good at soothing Solona and was always there when Dorian needed another hand.

 Blackwall had quickly begun assembling a crib, undoubtedly hewn from logs felled by his own hand. Dorian had not stopped by to see the creation for himself as he felt sure that the hairy lummox would tempt him to set the gift on fire with his continuous aspersions of Dorian’s character. Dorian had not been by the tavern either, though Bull had promised that he and the Chargers had a round waiting for the new fathers when they had a chance to catch their breath. Varric had promised to deliver a nickname for Solona within the week and Solas had offered to paint a miniature of the child as soon as he completed his latest segment of the rotunda. Only Sera and Vivienne had reacted negatively, Sera because it “wasn’t right, having a baby from two men” and Vivienne because “the thing was an abomination.” The reactions were not unexpected--Dorian was surprised the opinion was not more popular--but it was disheartening nonetheless. Luckily, it was not necessary to publicize Solona’s origins beyond the Inquisitor’s immediate circle.

 Once the unusual circumstances had been explained to the other Inquisition advisors, and the resulting furor had died down, both men had been restricted to half-duties and firmly informed that midday naps were one of those duties. Dorian suspected that the ladies had wanted to insist that they both fully step back from their current responsibilities but knew that Cullen would never agree. It also gave the other advisors the excuse to play babysitter, a chore they both took on with eager exuberance.

 “There are three nursing mothers here in Skyhold. They’ve all graciously agreed to donate what they can spare for Solona. In the meantime, I will set up a schedule for Solona’s care immediately. I am certain that between myself, Leliana, and the rest of the inner circle we can handle any issue that may arise while you are both attending to your other duties.” Josephine was already scribbling notes to herself as she talked, making tentative plans.

 “Make sure I get at least two afternoons, Josie,” Leliana interjected eagerly.

 “I really don’t see how all this is necessary,” Cullen groused, unhappy with the idea of leaving the care of both Solona and his army to others. “Plenty of families manage the care of their children while attending to their other obligations, I fail to see how this is different.”

 “Other families aren’t trying to save the world, Commander,” Josephine countered firmly. “Furthermore, we _are_ your family and there’s no reason you and Dorian should stretch yourselves so thin if we can help.”

 “And I, for one, am not too proud to graciously accept your assistance.” Dorian sketched a small bow to Josephine, silently thanking her for her help in wresting Cullen away from his self-imposed 24-hour work days. While Dorian found Cullen’s dedication to be one of his more admirable qualities, it was less becoming and more exasperating in this context.

 Cullen glowered at the others, muttering quietly that if Dorian would just let him take Solona out in her sling for drills, there would be no issue. Dorian smirked at the other man’s grousing, pleased at having finally won the upper hand in a contest against the Commander. The meeting had ended shortly thereafter, with Josephine promising to circulate a schedule for Solona that afternoon to ensure the new parents were provided with much needed relief as soon as possible.  

 Dorian had been surprised at how short their war room meetings had been immediately following their return from Redcliffe. He had expected a lengthy interrogation covering the events, circumstances, and magics that had led to the creation of a new life, a life that clearly, but impossibly, contained the genetic material of two men. Instead Leliana had merely confirmed the basic outline of events, including a brief history of Halward’s experience with blood magic and that he was still at large, before demanding to hold Solona and moving on to topics of baby care. It seemed that discussion had been tabled for the Inquisitor’s return in a few months’ time.

 Perhaps by then Dorian would be able to put together a better answer than “Blood magic is quite strange, yes?” He had begun to research the question, but with Solona’s demands on his time he had very little brain power available to dedicate to the problem. If he had been less distracted in the moment, perhaps he would have thought to note down the runes used in the circle or attended a bit more closely to Halward’s recitation. As it was, Dorian had very little to go on but a vague outline of the ritual itself and the resulting product of the spell.

 Dorian was also beginning to wonder at Cullen’s reaction to the whole ordeal. He had not known the man long, but it would have been hard to miss the stereotypically Southern attitudes towards magic and mages, the whispered rumors of his time in the Ferelden Circle and Kirkwall, and his shouted objections to the mage alliance formed by the Inquisitor before Haven fell. Initially, Dorian had not been at all surprised by the open acceptance and happiness expressed by Cullen as it reflected Dorian’s own feelings of amazement at the unexpected turn of events before them. However, as Dorian began to research into the magic involved, he recalled just how blasphemous it all was. By all rights, the Southerners, with Cullen at their fore, should be building a pyre to burn what to them should seem to be a corrupted, blighted, demonically possessed malificar baby, not doling out paternity leave and providing baby clothes. Dorian felt it was something he should perhaps discuss with the former Templar, but thought perhaps it should wait for a time when they were both less exhausted. On the other hand, best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

 Dorian’s own acceptance of the baby had been a remarkably simple thing. No part of him had ever foreseen parenthood in his future, immediate or otherwise, and so he had actively avoided thoughts and circumstances that would remind him of things he would never be able to have. When handed the chance to be the father he had always longed to have for himself, though, Dorian found himself ready to spring at the opportunity. Though the timing and circumstances were far from ideal, Dorian was fully prepared to give young Solona all the love and support that he had never received from his own parents. He hoped that his enthusiasm would mitigate his complete ignorance of all aspects of child care.

 His growing enthusiasm for his partner in parenthood, on the other hand, he was doing his best to ignore. Dorian had always had a regrettable tendency to fall quickly and hard from the smallest attentions thrown his way. Cullen’s forthright personality and chess skills had already placed him near the top of Dorian’s list of favorite people. Add to that Cullen’s genuine devotion to Solona and seeming enjoyment of Dorian’s company and Dorian was struggling against a full blown infatuation with the man. Sharing a bed most nights didn't help, either.

 To cover his own growing discomfort for his inconvenient feelings, Dorian flirted outrageously with the Commander. His innuendos were moving from suggestive to bald suggestions. Cullen had yet to do more than blush and brush him off, but that blush only implied that Cullen was giving Dorian’s suggestions more than a passing thought, increasing Dorian’s discomfort and the vigor with which he flirted. Dorian was beginning to wonder how long he could continue this behavior before Cullen became fed up and took Solona with him to his own rooms, never to look back. This, in turn, made Dorian wonder if his need for acceptance and fear of abandonment would make him a bad parent. It was not very productive for Dorian to be left alone with his thoughts.

 His attraction for the former Templar was just one of many elephants in the room that had yet to be discussed between the two men. Dorian knew he needed to be mature and have an adult discussion with Cullen about their continued cohabitation, the future of their child, the blood magic that created their child, and how all of this might be adversely affected by the impending end of the world. He just hoped that he’d be able to have that discussion on more than three hours of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My recollections of this period of child-rearing are quite hazy. It's only been 11 months, but it may as well have been 11 years. Nothing's been retained. I tried reviewing pictures and such from the first month to jog some memories but I barely even recognized my child. I definitely remember the sleep deprivation, though. It's the only point in my life where I have been able to lay down and fall asleep anytime, anywhere. Thus I've tried to capture that essence. 
> 
> I found the comments from earlier chapters to be very helpful, so please let me know what you'd like to see more of! I probably haven't thought about it but probably should. The next chapter will be a bigger time jump because newborns are hella boring. Really, Solona will need to get to 3 months before she'll start providing serious entertainment value.


	4. Cullen

As Cullen settled back into bed for the third time that night, he reflected on the drastic right angle his life had taken approximately one month ago. He had fathered a child with possibly the most handsome man of his acquaintance and had begun sharing a life with him. It all seemed impossibly perfect and far more than he deserved. Cullen felt the soft touch of Dorian’s arm as it gravitated towards the warmth he was progressively adding to the bed and smiled to himself. As Solona began to fall into a predictable sleep schedule the new parents also began to gain more restful nights. That had led to deeper sleep and increasing occurrences of sleep cuddling.  
  
The first time it had happened, Cullen had woken them both abruptly with one of his nightmares. It was possible that the touch of another person had triggered the event or it could simply have been a symptom of the increase in sleep. Regardless, Cullen had jolted awake abruptly with an arm around his waist, face to face with the mage. At the time, Cullen had been too grateful for the soothing presence of Dorian’s warm body to think much about it and had reached out to grip one of the mage’s hands firmly as he shook off the remnants of the dream. Recollecting the event later, though, Cullen wondered at the intense blush that had suffused Dorian’s face as he’d tried to jerk away from the embrace when he woke at Cullen’s touch. When Cullen refused to release his hand, Dorian seemed to refocus on soothing Cullen back to sleep and continued to hold him as they fell back to sleep. Since that night, waking with an additional, Dorian-shaped blanket had become a common occurrence for Cullen.  
  
Despite a magical fire in the hearth and enchantments to heat his room, Dorian still seemed to be perpetually cold, even in his sleep. This made Cullen’s warm body exceptionally appealing to the other man, or so Dorian had explained after that first night, when he’d attempted to apologize to Cullen for invading his space. Cullen had then attempted to apologize for his nightmare and the two had agreed that perhaps neither need apologize for their sleeping habits.  
  
Cullen was somewhat surprised with how comfortable he was becoming with Dorian’s increased presence in his life. He found himself hoping that their unplanned and unusual family was slowly building to something more permanent and lasting. He knew it was hardly the ideal time or circumstances under which to begin a courtship, but he was increasingly certain that that was just what he wanted to do.

He had always thought Dorian very attractive but was initially suspicious of his motives and then, after Haven, had too much to do to selfishly pursue his desires. Besides, Dorian was a terrible flirt, making it impossible to determine whether he had any sincere interest in anyone. Now that Solona was here, though, it was perfectly reasonable to build a strong relationship with her father. Maybe in so doing Cullen could capture Dorian’s attentions for himself. With his and Dorian’s interactions with each other, growing more confident and less awkward each day it almost seemed possible. He could hope, at least.

Just a few days earlier, Cullen had brought his chess set to Dorian’s rooms with the vague thought to give them something other than Solona to talk about. The pair had yet to return to the garden for a game since the arrival of the infant due to a sudden lack of free time. Dorian had been eager to engage in an activity unrelated to infant care.

“Cullen, I'm shocked! You have clearly withheld this board out of fear of my exhaustion-enhanced strategic abilities. I can see you wish to deny, but you haven't fooled me or Solona. Your handsome face won't be sufficient distraction either, I've grown inured to your wiles. This game will be mine.”

“It would be a pleasant surprise to finally have an opponent capable of beating me, besides my sister,” Cullen commented dryly,raising an eyebrow at Dorian and blushing only slightly at the compliment. Dorian merely huffed quietly in mock offense. Solona, who was currently snuggled against Dorian’s shoulder sighed as well, possibly in defense of her father's chess skills. It was hard to say.

“Your sister is better than me at chess then, hm? I shall have to write her to plead for her secrets. I'm sure that if she knew how big your head is getting she'd jump to assist me. No one wants to lose a sibling to an inflated ego… or so I assume. Not having any myself, I must base my information on observation, not experience.”

“I think I'm glad for that.” There were a lot of things Cullen could say here. He could say any of the angry things that had come to mind since learning Dorian’s father was a malificar--but he was waiting for Dorian to bring up the topic himself, when he was ready. He could ask what Dorian’s life had been like growing up--but the topic was, based on what he knew of Dorian’s family, likely just as unpleasant as the previous. Dorian seemed understandably quite sensitive regarding his family, and Cullen was trying to get to know his … parenting partner? … in a relaxed and pleasant way. “The world couldn't handle two Dorian Pavuses. I would have sometimes liked for it to have fewer Rutherfords, too. I love my family but they can be a bit… trying at times. Loud.”

“And now you have a babe to fill the silence you'd found in your adulthood. Funny how it works out.” Dorian made, what was for him, an unusually conservative move, then picked up the thread of conversation. “You have siblings, then?”

Cullen was unsure whether Dorian was trying to distract him with conversation or paying their discussion more attention than was usual. “Two sisters and a brother. As a child, I played this with my sister Mia. She’d get this stuck up grin whenever she won--which was all the time. My brother and I practiced together for weeks. The look on her face the day I finally won …” His smile fell as he realized how long it had been since that day and that it had been nearly as long since he’d last written his sister. “Between serving with the Templars and the Inquisition, I haven’t seen them in years. I wonder if she still plays.”

When Cullen looked up from placing his piece, Dorian had a surprisingly open smile on his face. “Commander, I fear those are the most words you have ever strung together about yourself in my hearing. I do hope you are giving our game your full attention. You should keep in practice for when you see your sister again.”

“You're quite right. My family moved to South Reach after the Blight. I do not write to them as often as I should. I started a letter a week ago, but I am not certain I know how to put into words everything that's happened. I'm sure once I do they'll be showing up at our doorstep, darkspawn magister or no.”

“I quite like the sound of your sister. You know, if she bested you here, the Inquisitor would make her Commander in a heartbeat. Then where would you wear your furry stole? It’d look awfully foolish without the title to accompany it.”

Cullen snorted with laughter, despite himself. “No more so than walking around with a bare shoulder in the highest peaks of Thedas,” he rejoindered.

A surprised bark of laughter issued forth from the mage. Cullen smiled to himself, strangely proud that he'd finally teased forth a genuine reaction from the man. “Commander, I fear you are spending too much time in my company. Your wit is becoming rather cutting. Here I was, charitably considering making an offer of my scrivener services. I have been told many times that I'm a delightful correspondent. Mia would be sure to forgive you any lapse in communication.”

“You are simply trying to create an opportunity to ask my sister how to best me in chess. I am not as gullible as you take me for.” Cullen remarked, still smiling.

It was then that the sleeping baby woke with an abrupt screech, as though she’d been injured. But she was only hungry.

“When I go deaf within the year, you’ll know who to blame,” Dorian remarked, though his voice could not make it through the din. As he rose to ready a bottle for the sobbing infant he admonished her with mock sternness, “Young lady, you must always let Papa have the last word. It is of the greatest importance that I remain the wittiest and most handsome man in Skyhold. If people were to hear that the Commander had bested me in conversation, why, I don’t think I could show my face in public again. The ridicule! The shame!” At this point, Dorian was again audible, as Solona now had the bottle she so desired. “Ah, that’s better. I’m glad we had this chat.”

Cullen tried not to let too much amusement show on his face, as he’d hate to encourage Dorian’s theatrics. “I’d best be off, now, if you’ve everything you need. My captains should be preparing to report in for the day and I am expecting an update from the Inquisitor. She should be returning shortly. Once she heard about Solona she decided to return once our men were freed. In her last report she was making ready to assault the Avvar stronghold so--”

“Yes, yes, no need for a recitation on tactics and troop movements,” Dorian interrupted, waving Cullen off impatiently, “Enjoy your reports. Solona and I will go take in the afternoon sun while it’s available.”

Cullen had been pleased with the success of his chess maneuver but he knew the campaign was far from won. For one, he and Dorian had yet to have sufficient time to complete the game they’d started. Cullen hoped inspiration would strike him as he drifted back to sleep, but the soporific effects of Dorian’s arms brought a swift and dreamless rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! This is now the longest thing I've ever written! Or at least, it is in its draft form. On here it is still much shorter than many things I've written. However, I'm pleased to know definitively that I can write more about a pair of characters that I really like than I can about the viability of tortious claims related to the Clean Air Act. It makes me feel like a more interesting person.


	5. Advisors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teasing Cullen is pretty fun. Everyone agrees.

“You are so smitten, Commander,” Josephine snickered as Cullen gathered up his reports, preparing to leave the war room. She exchanged a look with Leliana before they both burst into laughter. 

“I haven’t an inkling of what you are talking about and I'm sure I don't want to know,” he replied stiffly, with a growing frown. He sighed internally, knowing what was coming but helpless to prevent it. 

Though he'd grown used to being at the brunt of the two women's teasing on occasion, they had recently begun ascribing romantic interest to him where none existed and the repeated joke was becoming tiring. Just last week they'd spent nearly a half hour embroiled in a discussion over which of the many runners across Skyhold held his interest. 

Both of the other advisors were incapable of believing that he was genuinely uninterested in a romantic tryst with anyone in the keep. The more he protested the more Leliana would abuse a quote from some ‘well-known’ Fereldan tragic play about some Prince Hamish (or maybe Herbert?) wherein a lady protests too much. It was as frustrating as it was tautological. Everything Cullen said (or didn't say!) simply reinforced the pair’s belief that he harbored incredibly inappropriate feelings for a junior member of their organization. 

Now, it seemed, the game was to be replayed again. 

“Don't look so grim, Commander. There is no reason for you to try to hide your heart here. You are among friends.” Leliana goaded, with a smile. “Besides, we have it figured out now. There will be no denying it this time.”

“And what, exactly, have you ‘figured out,’ Lady Nightingale?” Cullen asked, trying to sound as sarcastic and disinterested as possible. He was only moderately successful. 

Josephine and Leliana smiled again at each other, quite unable to contain their excitement at the false news they bore. 

“Dorian,” Josephine stated, without further preamble. 

Cullen knew that his expression had stiffened and could feel himself go pale then bright red. He didn't need the expanding Cheshire grins of his two colleagues to tell him that he would not bluff his way out of the truth. He cursed mentally at his painfully Fereldan complexion for what was approximately the five hundredth time that year. He shifted uncomfortably, uncertain what the ladies expected from him. 

Leliana giggled again, “You are wondering at our interest, of course. We want to offer you our assistance.”

Cullen shifted his weight again, wondering how he could reject their help without being rude. Seeing no way but forward he remarked, “I didn't know that courting was a specialty of either of yours.”

“Of course it is, Cullen, don't be absurd. You cannot be successful in the Game without becoming highly skilled in matters of the heart.” Josephine said, clearly somewhat insulted. “A little romance can solidify--or destroy--a treaty.”

“And I could not learn anything if I could not discern the difference between an affair of passion and one of convenience. These skills are of high importance.” Leliana added, still amused at how much she had flustered the Commander. ”Tell me honestly, have you put any thought into how you will woo him?” 

“Yes,” Cullen replied immediately, with indignance. “Of course I have. I am not as naive as you think me. It has gone rather well, too.”

Josephine’s eyebrows raised in surprise while Leliana continued to look at Cullen with the face of a cat with a canary. After a moment she gestured expectantly.

“What?” Cullen snapped, growing tired at being toyed with.

“Tell us what you have done! What was his reaction? What did you talk about? What do you have planned next?” Leliana exclaimed, bouncing on her heels in excitement.

“This is absurd.” Cullen glowered at both women to ensure they both understood that he was only participating under extreme protest. He sighed. “Fine. I brought my chess set to his rooms so we could play without having to bring Solona out to the gardens. She cannot settle down to nap out there and Dorian is worried about the sun burning her skin. We discussed my family. Solona woke up to be fed and I had to leave before we could complete the game for an officers’ meeting.”

Josephine looked a little appalled at the description of events while Leliana became more self-satisfied. Likely the interaction had confirmed her belief that Cullen was incapable of conducting a courtship without interference. 

Josephine cleared her throat. “Well, that does sound like a … pleasant afternoon. Did Lord Dorian mention whether he would be interested in doing such an activity again in the future?” She poised her pen over her clipboard, ready to take note of their deconstruction of events.

“Ah--he … well, we did not discuss it, no.” Cullen admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Did he make any flirtatious overtures? Touch your hand or bump your foot, for example.” Leliana asked intently.

“No. He was flirtatious but certainly not more than is usual.” Concern migrated onto Cullen’s features, replacing some of his irritation. Perhaps he did need some help. “He was holding Solona the whole time, though. It is doubtful that he would have been able to make any… physical advances without disturbing her.”

Leliana shook her head, dismissing the idea as though it were laughable. Then she laughed softly. “I think not, Commander. Dorian is skilled in this area. Were he actively engaged in pursuing you, a babe would not be a significant impediment.”

Josephine, noticing Cullen’s increasing distress, hastened to add, “That is not to say he is disinterested! It is just that he is not courting you in return. With a thoughtful gift or perhaps a well-crafted letter you can signal your interest more overtly.” She began scribbling down thoughts as she continued absently, “Then you can know his feelings. He will either respond in kind or do nothing.”

“Josephine! You are too romantic by half. Such an approach will not work with Lord Pavus; he is too cynical and will not take it seriously.” 

Cullen had not considered that Dorian might not take his interest seriously. After all, the Commander was frequently accused, primarily by the mage in question, of lacking a sense of humor. Leliana’s description of his friend, however, did ring remarkably true. Dorian was cynical, jaded. He rarely treated any subject with the gravity it merited. If Cullen wanted to gain his undivided attention, he would have to make himself plain. 

Apprehension snaked through him at the thought. His ability to converse competently with others was limited to topics of strategy and military. He had never been capable of articulating his feelings adequately, a failing that had led to several of the larger regrets in his life. On the other hand, he didn’t need to compose any epic poetry. Leliana was right--anything that came off as staged, deliberate, or theatrical would simply be brushed aside by Dorian. Furthermore, he was Fereldan, blunt discourse came naturally. He didn’t need Josephine’s elaborate plans or Leliana’s ill-gotten information.

“Josie, I appreciate your assistance, but I don’t need a report on formal courtship rituals,” the Commander stated, resolved to ignore the well-meaning advice of his friends.

“Commander, really, it is no trouble. It is already done.” Josephine insisted, waving the paper in Cullen’s face until he reluctantly accepted it. “Please, at least consider a flower arrangement. You can say so much with just a single lotus blossom!”

“I make no promises, Lady Ambassador. Now, if you’ll please excuse me ladies, there are many other duties that require my attention.” Cullen didn’t wait for his statements to be acknowledged and hastened for the exit, eager to escape the unwanted conversation. The two women allowed his departure with distracted waves, quickly becoming embroiled in an analysis of their new insight into the Commander’s personal life. It was, frankly, very terrifying.

Cullen made a brief stop by Varric’s table to collect Solona. He was still frustrated that everyone had insisted that he drop her off for war room meetings and training. Solona was perfectly happy in her sling! He sighed, frustrated at having to separate from his tiny child. 

“The little General was no trouble, Curly. Slept through the whole meeting. You look a little peaked. Everything go alright in there?” Varric appeared concerned at the flush that still darkened the Commander's face but Cullen had no plan to alleviate it. He would rather take on the Venatori in single combat than reveal his juvenile crush to the biggest gossip in Skyhold. 

“Just a bit warm. Thank you again for your help.” Cullen sped off swiftly for his tower, unwilling to engage in further conversation with anyone. Well, except Solona. 

“Can you believe this?” he asked the semi conscious child, “An ancient Darkspawn aspires to godhood and all anyone is interested in is why I am blushing.” He huffed in frustration, glancing back at his daughter. “You know, you will undoubtedly have this to look forward to as well. It is not easy to be so pale.”

Solona yawned. She didn't seem too concerned with the possibility. Cullen set her down in her bassinet after entering the office so he could deposit his reports and baby supplies. The child only allowed him a few free moments before she began to cry in distress at being left out of the fun.

“What do you think, little one? Do you think your father could be interested in me?” Cullen asked, lifting her up in the air. Solona cooed rhythmically, flailing her arms erratically. 

“That is one perspective,” he commented, “but I’m afraid it holds no meaning for me.” He sighed, slipping Solona into her sling to free up his hands. “Now, to work, my dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had a real chapter written out, with a little bit of plot and everything. Then after I posted last week's chapter I was having some difficulty with some later conflict in the story and instead of working through that I was like "wouldn't it be cute to have Leliana and Josie tease Cullen for like, 1500 words?" I was right, it was pretty cute. I kind of stuck it in here after writing the other parts, so if it feels awkward...that's probably because it is. Let me know. 
> 
> I still haven't made it through the confrontation. I think part of me is like tempted to try and wrap up the story and another part is like don't be lazy so I've taken the third option, which is "ignore the problem." As long as I am productively writing fluff I feel justified. 
> 
> OH, also, if you didn't get my attempt at a reference, I was trying to allude obliquely to Hamlet. You know, "the lady doth protest too much, methinks." You got it, right? Of course you did.


	6. Inquisitor

“Come on, hand her over. I want to meet this little nugget!”

The Inquisitor’s voice boomed across the space as she ambushed Dorian and Solona on their way through the main hall. Dorian had expected her appearance at some point in the day, but was embarrassed to find that the warning wasn't enough to keep him from startling at the sound of her voice. Solona, on the other hand, continued to gurgle happily. Nothing could dampen her mood when she had a full tummy. 

“Inquisitor! I hope you were able to enjoy the swamps of Ferelden without my scintillating company.” Dorian said as he handed her the drooling child. 

“You know I’m lost without you, Dorian.” Adaar replied absently, making a series of increasingly ridiculous faces at the unimpressed infant. When it became clear that Solona was only interested in staring intently at the new person entering her world, Adaar gave up her attempts at amusement and settled the child against her chest. Refocused on the conversation, Dorian suddenly found himself the object of intense scrutiny. 

“You seem to be adjusting well to parenthood,” the Inquisitor said thoughtfully, after a moment. “I was just on my way to the garden as well. Walk with me.” Dorian offered Adaar his arm and two strolled away from the bustle of the hall. As they approached a secluded area of Dawn Lotus the Inquisitor slowed to examine some of the new buds. “You know, when you bailed on our trip to the Mire, I just thought you’d found a lead on some more Venatori agents or that a new book on ancient Tevinter lore had arrived.”

Dorian snorted lightly, “This could hardly have been anticipated.”

“Leliana hasn’t shared much about what happened. We can’t exactly communicate securely while I’m out in the field, no matter how well-trained the birds are. I know it’s a family matter and you’d be well within your rights to keep the details to yourself, but I was hoping you’d be willing to give me a rundown of what happened in Redcliffe.” She paused, then nudged his shoulder with her own affectionately, “I can be a pretty good listener.”

Dorian sighed heavily. “I wish I could tell you what happened, my dear, but I barely understand it myself. I’d hoped that by the time you’d returned I could have found some hint of how magic, even blood magic, could create new life but, shockingly, there isn’t much within our library on how to become a malificar.”

“I wasn’t really asking for a treatise on magical theory, Dorian. How are you holding up? Your own father laid a dangerous, potentially deadly trap for you, you survived but so did he, and you and your strapping young Templar friend suddenly become parents. Those are quite a few momentous events to pack into a single day. Which, Varric tells me regularly, is rather uncommon for most people.”

Dorian released another frustrated sigh, still not eager to discuss his feelings. But he knew Adaar would simply stare him down in that calmly disconcerting way of hers until he gave her a straight answer. So he made an attempt at describing what it was like to have your formerly admirable, principled father abandon those principles in an attempt to change you. He couldn't help but trivialize his feelings, however. “I'm quite used to disappointing my father. Never fear, Inquisitor, I won't leave you to the mercies of the Iron Lady or that shabby hobo on your next outing.”

The Inquisitor frowned, “You might want to discuss that with Cullen. We will also need to discuss your father's likely next move with the other advisors. If he's tried this twice, now, he will continue trying.”

“Leave my father to me,” Dorian said grimly. “I didn't offer my skills to the Inquisition only to burden it with my family troubles. Everyone is always asking things of you, my friend. I won't be be another one of those people.”

Adaar passed Solona back to Dorian and patted him on the shoulder. “You didn't ask. I'm offering. You've got a wonderful young lady there, Dorian, and I'd have your family receive the support it needs. Come on, I need you in the War Room.”

The meeting that followed was immensely frustrating for Dorian. The Inquisition’s leaders seemed less concerned at the impossible power his father had seemingly accumulated than they did with plotting his movements and capture. Dorian objected to the waste of resources but was mostly ignored. Eventually he resigned himself to the will of the Inquisitor and provided a few insights into his father's habits. By the time Solona was ready for her nap, a rough plan to deal with his father had been hammered out.

Leliana’s agents had identified several leads into the Magister’s whereabouts and, with some support from well-placed friends of the Inquisition and military resources, those leads would be followed. And, to further infuriate Dorian, he would not be heading out with the Inquisitor for the foreseeable future. Cullen and Adaar especially had seemed to think it would be unsafe for Dorian to leave the keep while his father was at large. Dorian pointed out, rather reasonably, he thought, that between the bears, undead, Red Templars, Venatori, and demons he was rarely safe out in the field. As with Dorian’s other helpful interjections, it was ignored. Dorian’s sole contribution would be to contact anyone in Tevinter who might still speak with him. 

Cullen tried to reassure him that there were plenty of ways to support the Inquisition from Skyhold and that he sympathized with Dorian’s frustrations, being similarly restricted by the nature of his posting. However, the Commander was pulled aside by the Inquisitor and Josephine as the group exited the War Room and Dorian separated to attend to Solona’s needs. When Cullen reappeared in Dorian’s rooms some hours later, he looked shifty and unsettled, with a nervous flush gracing his cheeks. 

Dorian, already short-tempered from the meetings earlier, was perversely pleased to see the Commander looking as unhappy as he was. “Why don’t you go put that nervous energy to use acquiring us a decent vintage?” He instructed Cullen, leading him back out to the hallway. “Once we have a bit of alcohol, I think this day will drastically improve for both of us. Solona and I will man the fort until you return.”

Cullen was surprisingly pliable and promised to bring back something that was at least Antivan before disappearing down the corridor. Dorian didn’t have much time to be suspicious of the Commander’s motives in assisting in his inebriation until he returned with wine in hand, Solona having woken and demanded a bottle in the interim. When Dorian saw that the Commander had procured several bottles instead of the usual single carafe, he went on alert. Cullen poured them each a glass quietly, still radiating nervous energy as Dorian settled Solona back in her crib while eyeing the other man warily. The pair then took their wine out onto the landing, where they could speak without disturbing the child. 

“Well, out with it then,” Dorian said impatiently, “What has you worked up into a tizzy?”

Cullen looked at Dorian sharply, as if he'd forgotten his presence, then opened and closed his mouth twice without emitting a sound. Finally, he looked away and, clearing his throat, prevaricated, “I expected you to be rather more worked up as well, after our meeting earlier.”

“Oh, I am. Unlike you, though, my profile is not improved by worry lines. Instead of fidgeting incessantly I plan to express my agitation in a civilized manner, by drinking far too much of this wine and passing out.” He demonstrated his intent by raising his glass to the Commander before taking a healthy sip. “Mm, Commander, my compliments. Is this actually Antivan?”

“I’d hoped at least one element of your day could be positive,” Cullen replied. Dorian was somewhat taken aback by the thoughtful sentiment, but Cullen didn’t notice this or the unusual silence that followed from Dorian as he took a deep breath and continued. “Josephine and the Inquisitor have found new quarters for us. All of us. It seems they’ve been preparing a larger suite of rooms for the three of us since shortly after we returned from Redcliffe. I did not wish to speak on your behalf, Dorian, but the Inquisitor is very forceful on occasion and insists we accept. I believe she intends to have some of my men over here in the morning to move your belongings. I understand if you do not wish to continue sharing quarters with me or make this arrangement more permanent. We haven’t discussed it, I know, and I’ve just imposed myself in your space. I was told I’m forbidden from using my loft, though, until the hole is fixed which could be some time--”

“Cullen!” Dorian interrupted. The man was clearly planning to talk until he was blue in the face. While the idea of making their arrangement more official sent Dorian’s heart racing in panic, it seemed more productive to ignore his own reaction to calm his friend. Dorian would simply have to have a word with the Inquisitor later. “That sounds like an excellent idea. I think I should be a little offended that you think I would take this opportunity to kick you out of your daughter’s home. Certainly, your wardrobe is atrocious, but I would have to look at that anyway. Please don’t take what the Orlesian nobles say to heart, Commander, you don’t smell even a bit of wet dog.” 

Cullen smiled weakly. “What a ringing endorsement,” he said, dryly. 

“You’re quite welcome, Commander,” Dorian said with a grin and an elaborate bow. “Now that we’ve put your mind at ease, it is time to discuss my troubles. Why are you and Adaar so insistent that I remain within Skyhold until my father has been apprehended? I had been sure that you were aware that I am more than capable of caring for myself. This paternalistic attitude from the both of you is tiresome.”

Cullen frowned, looking both irritated and saddened by Dorian’s statements. “I will not apologize for trying to keep my family safe,” he said, firmly. Dorian had not, prior to that moment, thought that he was currently a member of any family and, flushing from a sudden flood of emotion, turned slightly away from the Commander as he continued speaking. “I do not mean to imply that you are not capable, Dorian. You’ve proven your abilities time and again. But you’ve more than just you to consider, now that Solona is here. I have several very sound reasons regarding how your presence here will keep both you and her safer, but truthfully, Dorian, I … fear being left to care for her on my own. I’m hardly qualified to be a parent at all and I’m certain I will need your continued guidance.”

Dorian took a deep swallow of wine to help clear his suddenly tight throat. “I seem to recall being the one to request parenting guidance,” he commented quietly.

“I feel certain that stories of my service prior to the Inquisition have reached you,” Cullen responded, rather sharply. “So you must be aware that my moral compass is, at best, unreliable. As she gets older I think you will find it will be best if she looks to you for guidance in distinguishing right and wrong. Add to that … ah--well, there is something else I should tell you.” Here Cullen paused again, but Dorian found himself in need of further liquid fortifications and could only gesture for him to continue.

“You may be aware that southern Templars take lyrium. It is the source of our abilities but it controls us as well, leashes us to the Chantry. We’ve been able to find a reliable source of lyrium for the Inquisition but I … no longer take it.”

Dorian was somewhat surprised by this revelation and said so. “I must say that I’m glad to learn that you are no longer taking such an addictive and destructive substance. Is this the cause, then, of your headaches and night sweats? I’d attributed it all to stress, but upon reflection these symptoms do seem too extreme for that.”

“Those are the primary symptoms now. It’s been months since I last had a draught. Cassandra recruited me in Kirkwall and I went through the initial withdrawal before departing for Haven. Still, to my knowledge no one has successfully stopped taking lyrium once fully initiated and the risk remains that I could lose my mind or my life.”

“So it falls to me to remain alive in the event that you succumb to the lingering effects of an old addiction? So selfish, Cullen.” It was clear that the Commander did not hear the facetiousness in Dorian’s comment as he frowned and looked away ashamedly. Dorian rolled his eyes dramatically at Cullen’s back in frustration, but took his hand to get his full attention.

“Come now, you can hardly think that you should return to a daily draught of a poisonous, potentially mind-altering substance so I can be free to gallivant across the countryside with the Inquisitor. That would be a supremely unreasonable request, even for me.” Cullen gave a small snort at Dorian’s attempt at humor and the mage returned the laugh with a small smile, patting Cullen’s hand affectionately as his own retreated. “Thank you for telling me this, Cullen. I appreciate that you didn’t wait until Solona is setting the curtains on fire to inform me that you are incapable of quelling the magical flames. ‘So sorry, Dorian, it must have slipped my mind,’ you’d say and then you would have found yourself on fire as well from my righteous anger.” 

“I haven’t actually tested my abilities since Kirkwall. I might be able to save myself from magical death. I doubt I could save any draperies, though.”

Dorian huffed with false effrontery, “What would be the point, then?”

Cullen smiled at the joke and they lapsed into silence as they moved on to a new bottle of wine.

“You think it likely, then, that Solona will be a mage?”

Dorian nodded thoughtfully in the affirmative at Cullen’s question. “Quite. I’m sure I’ve told you that my family has been carefully bred for magical acumen for hundreds of years. One mundane Southerner is hardly enough to stamp out such a proud tradition. Indeed, I wouldn’t be surprised if my father had somehow woven some kind of blood magic mage-child guarantee into his spell.”

“All the more reason then for you to stay out of the field. She will need you as a teacher when she comes into her abilities.”

“Not going to ship her off to a Southern circle, then? Those are strikingly liberal views for a former Templar.” 

“Who knows what sort of system will be put in place after this is all over, but the former one can hardly be rebuilt. We can no longer keep people imprisoned for something they had no control over.”

“Well, don’t look to Tevinter as the model of a mage paradise. Instead of mage enslavement we’ve simply chosen to enslave everyone else, both figuratively and literally.”

“One would hope there is a solution somewhere in the middle of these two extremes,” Cullen said, wryly, “such that a hypothetical family of mages and non-mages might live together peacefully.” 

Dorian grinned at the resurgence of Cullen’s humor and the warm picture of a happy family life that suddenly came to mind at his words. “Such blasphemy! Peaceful co-existence sounds terribly dull, Cullen. Come, let’s take this wine inside to the fire before my moustache starts accumulating icicles. I believe I have a deck of cards handy - we could practice your bluffs for our next game with the Inquisitor and company. If that’s not to your liking, I could demonstrate how much my chess game improves with drink.”

Cullen groaned at Dorian’s suggestions as he followed him back inside. “I am never playing cards again. Is it possible to bribe you into silence on the events of that evening? More Antivan wine, perhaps?” he inquired beseechingly.

“I’m afraid there isn’t enough wine in Thedas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't notice this initially, but I managed to work in the title to the story IN THE TEXT. It's almost like the story is about what the title says it is. Amazing.


	7. Adaar is Insensitive

The next morning, Dorian sought out Adaar, certain that his new living situation was her idea of sparking romance. She was just heading in from her early morning training regimen as Dorian exited the keep. 

“Inquisitor, meddling is not a strength of yours. I suggest you leave your rudimentary attempts at manipulation to your Ambassador or we will be laughed out of the Winter Palace,” he remarked sharply, turning to walk with the Inquisitor as she made her way through the mostly empty hall. It was before breakfast, still too early for visiting dignitaries or even much of the supporting staff of the hold. Dorian himself had never been out so early before a tiny child had destroyed his sleep cycle. Their steps echoed through the chamber, lending a satisfying weight to their procession. 

Adaar remained silent until they reached the door to her quarters and, grinning, gestured for Dorian to follow her up. Once in the privacy of her stairwell, Dorian felt free to openly criticize the leader further.

“Trying to start gossip about the two of us? You have one lesson on political maneuvering and suddenly you go mad with power.”

Adaar’s grin seemed only to grow further at Dorian’s sniping. “Here I thought I would be receiving your effusive thanks for forcing your boyfriend to make things official.”

Dorian huffed a disdainful laugh, lacking any humor, “I can only assume you are referring to our dear Commander. I assure you, he is not, nor will he ever be, my boyfriend. Juvenile labels notwithstanding, that man is as uninterested as they come.”

Adaar looked at him a little sadly as she gestured for him to take a seat on her luxurious couch. She stretched herself out on the bed across from him, rolling on her side to face him. “Hmm. I thought you had better self awareness than that. Quite a few heads turn and follow you when you enter a room, but none as consistently as ‘our dear Commander’s.’”

“I never accused him of having bad taste. An appreciation for a fine form does not equate to interest, as I'm sure you know.” Dorian was already tired of this conversation. It was unfair of his friend to dangle hope of the impossible in front of him when he knew quite well he could never have it. He already received similar teasing from many of the other friends he'd made at Skyhold, he didn't need it from Adaar too. So he shifted forward in his seat, preparing to get to the point. 

“You're unhappy that I've arranged quarters for you and Cullen.” Adaar beat him to the punch, as usual. 

“I fear that is something of an understatement, my dear. Shall we enumerate your sins, hm? You have made life changes to both myself and Cullen based on false speculation and without consulting our opinion. In so doing you have placed the already fragile new parameters of our parental relationship in jeopardy. Furthermore, you force these changes on us without warning, bullying the Commander into acceptance so that he can have the unpleasant job of telling me of the new arrangements. The man was beside himself last night thinking I'd steal away with Solona in the night!” At some point Dorian had risen to better pace through his tirade, now finding himself pointing into Adaar’s face with an angry finger. 

“If I'd discussed it with you, you would have told me no. I presented the idea to Cullen instead because he would, and did, tell me yes.” Adaar said, calmly. 

“Exactly!” Dorian cried, throwing his hands in the air. He was unbelievably exasperated that somehow his Qunari friend could understand his outrage but not act appropriately. 

“This arrangement is best for Solona.” The Inquisitor raised a single brow at Dorian, waiting to see if he questioned her before moving on. “You were already living together. Being forced to do so in such a cramped space would add to your stress, not detract. This will alleviate some of that. Yes, I hope it will encourage you to explore a romantic relationship together. That was not my primary purpose. You both have a bedroom, now. If anything, this will make it less likely that anything will happen between the two of you.”

Dorian looked away to glare fiercely at the stunning view of the Frostbacks. The application of her logic was sound, but he was not yet ready to accept that, his anger still too close to the surface to ignore. Not trusting himself to respond civilly, as she deserved, Dorian made to leave the tower. 

“Dorian, one more thing. Why are you so sure that Cullen doesn't, or couldn't, want to be with you?” Dorian turned back to the Inquisitor, annoyed further by her continued interference and his lack of an adequate answer to her query. Articulating his deeply rooted fears of inadequacy and abandonment required more self-reflection than he was willing to do fully sober. Therefore, Dorian tried misdirection.

“Aside from his clear preference for women, which is apparently an insufficient reason for you, he needs someone as highly regarded as he is himself. Consorting with the ‘evil Tevinter Magister’ would destroy his reputation. A reputation that is needed to help support the Inquisition, I might add. I already do enough to erode your goodwill. I can't tell you how many times I've had to endure well-meaning interrogations from our devout Chantry folk.” 

Dorian began pacing the Inquisitor’s room again, more slowly now that he was more seriously contemplating why he and Cullen would never be romantically involved, poking carefully at the pain such thoughts invoked. He looked up to see Adaar watching him quietly, still calmly curious about the distress she'd caused him with her meddling. 

He sighed, knowing that he had not revealed his true doubts and that Adaar realized this as well. He trusted her not to push him to reveal what he did not want to share but he felt she deserved a full explanation. “I know that the Commander could not feel something for me because he is simply not who I attract. I have a way of drawing in those who enjoy a casual roll in the sheets, nothing more. I may be getting a bit old for such frivolous engagements but they always seem to find me. Our Commander isn't the type, so were he interested in men, he wouldn't be interested in me.”

Adaar was silent for a moment at the end of his little speech. Dorian looked up after a moment, realizing that he'd begun to slump in self-pity only to find the Inquisitor smiling at him. While it was better than the pity he expected, it did seem like a rather insensitive reaction. Frowning, he spoke sharply. “I'm glad you find amusement in this.”

“You have to admit, your fears are a little silly.” Adaar said, making a futile attempt at straightening her face. “First of all, you have to know that Cullen doesn't care about his reputation. If anything, he'd be glad to be rid of it. I certainly wouldn't hold it against you if you two started something, so don't bring me or the Inquisition into it. Your second fear sounds more like superstition than fact. And possibly a product of your life in Tevinter. Have you even been with someone since moving South? Someone you actually had the chance to meet more than once?”

“Ah, no. But that doesn't--”

“It does mean something. Your self-worth is fairly low for someone with such a large ego. Don't base your value on what others have told you it is.”

Dorian tsked in annoyance, “I learned at a very young age not to place any stock in what others say and think. You’re being an ass.” He crossed his arms, feeling defensive and annoyed further that it was undoubtedly quite apparent. 

Adaar looked a bit shamefaced. “That's not what I meant. I'm sorry, I don't mean to condescend. It's just that you're unfamiliar with southern culture and I'd hate for you to continue making assumptions that are based on faulty premises. I think you would find that a romantic or sexual relationship with a Southerner would be conducted very differently. More openly. Even Orlesians tend to conduct their affairs in the open. Just look at our Iron Lady.”

Dorian hmmed thoughtfully, mollified somewhat by Adaar’s explanation and apology. “True. In Tevinter, a mistress would never gain the social status she's achieved through her illicit affair. Were such a relationship to become public, the lower ranking party would be the subject of ridicule for years. It is seens as very poor form to not keep one's house in order.”

“Exactly,” Adaar said happily. “Here the Orlesian court sees it as terribly romantic.” Adaar paused and stared at the ceiling, gathering her thoughts. “Dorian, I consider you my friend and I want you to be happy. I don't want you to avoid taking action because you just weren’t informed. Do you like Cullen? Romantically?”

Dorian felt himself flush at the direct question and hoped it wasn't evident on his dark skin. He sniffed and looked back to the balcony, unable to face both his feelings and another person simultaneously. “Yes. I do,” he stated simply. 

“Then do something about. Get to know Cullen. Make an overture; something simple and personal. Fereldans love that shit. Then, for Maker’s sake, come tell me everything that happens. I never have any gossip that Leliana and Josephine haven't already been discussing for a week.”

“Of course, my dear. I live to serve the Inquisition. And to provide you with entertainment.” Dorian replied dryly. He felt a bit better now that he'd received a satisfactory explanation from Adaar. He left the Inquisitor to prepare for her day and reflected on his impending living arrangements as he made his way to the library. Perhaps he should start packing up his things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adaar is well-meaning but a bit too brutally honest. I like to think that when she is staring Dorian down, it's actually that the player has gone to take a bathroom break in the middle of their conversation.


	8. Domesticity

“How can you possibly require so many garments?” Cullen griped, head barely peaking over an overfilled container of Tevinter-style robes.

“It is clear from your own wardrobe that any explanation I provided would be a waste of breath,” Dorian parried. “Besides, a good portion of these have been permanently stained with blood from Inquisition work or bodily excretions from Solona. They will require some manner of tailoring if I'm ever to be seen outside of Skyhold again. What would I wear in the meantime? No one could possibly get anything done were I to go about my day as the Maker made me!”

“I'm sure the Inquisition would manage to struggle on. Now, I can't hold this indefinitely, Dorian, where am I placing this?” 

The rooms that Josephine had prepared for the two men had been steadily filled over the past few days with their personal effects. Somewhat isolated from other areas of the keep so Solona’s crys wouldn’t disturb the neighbors, the appointments were tasteful and far more luxurious than anything Cullen had previously experienced. They had a modest sitting area that already acted primarily as a playspace for Solona and two bedrooms. Although both were furnished for adults, Cullen and Dorian had discussed sharing one so Solona could bed down in the other. Most evenings Solona was asleep before the dinner bell and both men agreed it would be nice to be able to prepare for bed without worrying about the level of noise or light generated. Dorian had also remarked that nothing was more effective at heating a bed than a Fereldan. Both had secretly hoped that the other would be amenable to continuing to sleep together and were relieved that a non-sexual excuse had been found.

Between baby care and Inquisition work, the moving process had been slow, especially as Cullen was reluctant to assign soldiers away from more important work to complete the move. Dorian had proclaimed that if Cullen felt so strongly that moving their belongings was a waste of everyone's time then he couldn't possibly find time to assist in the process either and left the majority of the work to Cullen. It had resulted in a fair amount of squabbling between the two, pushing thoughts of romantic overtures far from both men’s minds. However, as someone needed to care for Solona, Cullen realized that one of them would be unable to participate anyway. 

It didn't stop resentment from boiling up every time he returned to their rooms with another bundle of sundries to find Dorian and Solona engaged in creating delighted squealing and raspberry noises. Solona had been growing significantly more interactive in the past few days and Cullen was feeling left out. Solona had been cute before and Cullen had fallen in love with her instantly but she was terribly dull company. Her world had consisted of eating, sleeping, and pooping. No longer. She wriggled and squirmed, testing out her ability to control her limbs, roll over, and push up. It seemed as though any day now she'd be rolling herself where she wanted to go and Cullen was afraid he'd still be moving their belongings when that day came. 

In an effort to stave off his negativity, Cullen placed his burden as directed and lingered to observe his little family's activities. Dorian was currently reading aloud from his research into Corypheus while Solona attempted to manipulate some wooden ring toys that had been gifted to her. Occasionally, Dorian’s reading provided some unknowable amusement to the infant and she would wriggle and squeal. 

“She is so adorable,” Cullen mused. He found himself mentioning this at least once a day but was quite unable and unwilling to stop himself. 

Dorian paused in his recitation to assess the statement for himself. “I quite agree. Further, I'm afraid she's handily outstripped me in every metric -- she's more attractive, clever, kind, and intelligent. If she wasn't completely self-absorbed I don't think I could tolerate her presence.”

Cullen smiled distractedly. “I know we'd never sleep again were it to come to pass, but looking at her makes me want to go acquire ten more little ones.”

Dorian’s face buried itself back in its book, obscuring most of the flush that was crawling up his neck and cheeks. “It's a good thing that spell is impossible to replicate. It seems you are not to be trusted with blood magic now you've left the order.”

Cullen frowned at Dorian’s joke, but the mage headed off his reprimand before it could depart his mouth, “I'm aware blood magic is no laughing matter, Commander. But neither can we ignore it or the manner of Solona’s birth. I find levity to be an excellent tool for addressing difficult topics. If you have a better method I would be willing to consider it, presuming you've a convincing case.”

Dorian had a point, but Cullen wasn’t currently inclined to concede it. Instead he grunted a bit peevishly in dismissal and turned to another topic likely to incite further disagreement, as resentment swiftly replaced his brief contentment. “I have now moved the majority of your items as well as all of my own. I think I'll stop for the night. Perhaps you will find some time to finish up your room tomorrow.” 

Dorian sighed irritably. “Unlikely, Commander. I have a full schedule. If you are able to take this wriggling demon with you in the morning--to a location where no one will be flailing sharp objects alongside her it, I might add--it may just be possible for me to grab a few items. If you could send a few strapping young recruits by, they could certainly get the remaining mess sorted quickly.” Dorian affected a look of happy ideation, which was clearly false, ”Why, I just had a marvelous thought: you could make it part of their drills! So efficient. I'm surprised you didn't think of it yourself.”

Cullen opened his mouth to repeat his arguments of the past week that his soldiers could simply not be spared from other, more critical, operations and that it was an abuse of Inquisition resources. However, Solona rudely interrupted as she began to cry about being left on her tummy while both her dads ignored her struggle to flip back over. Dorian plucked her from her playmat and passed her directly to Cullen. “She's had an uncountable number of meltdowns this afternoon. I can't be the recipient of further screams without replying in kind and I don't think either of you want that outcome.” 

Cullen was no longer envious of Dorian’s afternoon with Solona and loudly suggested over the din that Dorian grab them a meal while he tried to soothe the baby. Dorian gladly accepted the task and quickly fled the screaming. The Commander rocked, patted, sang, and cradled Solona in innumerable configurations to no avail. He tried putting her down, picking her up again, feeding her, and changing her. Her scream was a physical thing, assaulting his body as well as his heart. Luckily, after fifteen or twenty minutes of inconsolable howls she tired herself out and started dropping off to sleep. 

Cullen considered putting her back in her bassinet, but aborted the cautious attempt as Dorian returned, food in hand. Solona didn't seem disturbed by the interruption, she merely snuggled further into her father's arms, even as his stomach began to growl loudly at the smell of dinner. Abruptly, a wave of exhaustion assaulted Cullen and he found himself agreeing with many of Dorian’s earlier arguments that had previously seemed inappropriately selfish. 

“I'll have some of the new recruits up here to finish the move in the morning,” he conceded, quietly, taking Solona to her bedroom for the evening. 

Dorian smiled, but admirably withheld any of the pointed remarks Cullen expected. “What an excellent idea,” he said instead. 

After Solona’s bedtime routine of a quick bath and a bottle, the two tucked into a hearty meal from the kitchens. Dorian, now no longer irritated with the Commander, happily provided several lively stories recounting his interactions with other Skyhold residents over the past few days. The pair laughed more than they had in weeks, finally having a moment to truly relax since returning from Redcliffe.

“I’m almost starting to worry,” Cullen remarked as he poured another glass of wine for each of them, “I feel like I need to go check on her. It’s almost as though we don’t have a child and are just two adults enjoying a nice evening together.”

Dorian glanced towards Solona’s bedroom, failing to conceal the high color in his cheeks and missing a similar flush that rose to Cullen’s face as he reflected on the implications in his previous statement. “I feel confident that Solona will notify us when she is dissatisfied with her situation. Still, I will happily drink to the hope of many more peaceful evenings to come.” The pair clinked glasses while awkwardly smiling to each other and proceeded to slowly empty the wine decanter.

***

It turned out that Dorian was correct. Solona woke for a bottle shortly after the two began preparations for bed. Surprisingly, though, it was easily dealt with. Once the child's hunger had been sated, she happily laid back down for sleep. Dorian had high hopes that this could be built into a routine that would make the coming months of childcare much more achievable. Clearly having separate rooms would make their lives much easier. 

As Dorian returned to the other bedroom, he found Cullen already in bed and half asleep. This was the outcome Dorian had hoped for when he'd taken on the task of addressing Solona’s cries for himself. Completing his morning and evening ablutions with another man was very intimate for Dorian, having previously never shared the experience with anyone but the slave who had served as his valet, and every time it happened he could feel his crush on the Commander growing to the point where it would soon become all-consuming. With Cullen asleep he could imagine that he'd snuck into this room under cover of darkness. He could pretend he didn't sleep here with this man every night, which was something he was much more familiar with. 

The imagined scenario did come with some difficulties, however. Firstly, the room may have been new to him, but none of its contents were, breaking the illusion quickly. It wasn't just the objects that were familiar, either. The sleepy rustling and snuffling from the Commander had become well known to the mage, too. Additionally, the fiction of preparing himself for an illicit lover did not move his thoughts in the chaste direction he was hoping for. Further planning and consideration was clearly needed to successfully navigate future evenings. 

After completing his routine and taking several deep, fortifying breathes to bring his thoughts and body into line, Dorian slipped into bed. Immediately he felt a warm arm flop over his stomach as the other occupant flipped over to face him. It made the mage somewhat suspicious that the Commander had been consciously giving him the illusion of privacy. Still, a comforting, warm body was very relaxing and Dorian was soon asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fighting over chores is classic married-people behavior. I don't know if Cullen and Dorian know this. Probably not, otherwise they'd be blushing. I feel like I have them blush a lot. Too much? I should find another way for them to react, probably.


	9. Science!

“This arrived for you, ser.”

“Ah, excellent! The South will be well on its way to enlightenment with this addition to the library.” Dorian looked up from unwrapping his package to find the messenger still waiting patiently to be dismissed, listening attentively to Dorian’s commentary. As they made eye contact the scout came back to attention, nervously mumbling “of course, Ser,” as though unsure whether a response was required. 

Dorian waved at the scout dismissively. “Carry on, soldier. No need to tarry on my account.” 

The mage tapped his chin thoughtfully as he watched the scout depart downstairs, moving at a normal pace as though she wasn’t the least bit concerned about turning her back to a Vint. Since joining the Inquisition, Dorian had grown used to the suspicious stares and lack of servants to peel his grapes. Therefore, it was notable when the glares ceased and messengers began waiting for his dismissal instead of dashing off as quickly as they appeared. It seemed there was an easy road into people's hearts and minds: carrying around an adorable infant. It was so simple that it was a wonder some of the less popular members of the Magisterium didn't employ such a tactic. 

Dorian snickered to himself at the thought of a baby-wearing revolution sweeping Tevinter as he dug into his package. As expected, it contained several prominent texts on the effects and properties of lyrium that he'd requested from a prestigious library in his homeland. Eagerly, he quickly skimmed the contents of each book, debating where to begin his research into treating and managing lyrium withdrawal. 

Since Cullen had revealed to Dorian the lingering consequences of serving the Order a few weeks prior, the mage had taken it upon himself to look into the matter further. After all, it would be of great benefit to many soldiers within the Inquisition to reduce or eliminate their dependence on the substance. From a purely academic perspective, the state of research on the topic was appallingly poor. Why, Dorian wouldn't be surprised if he was awarded a degree _honoris causa_ for the substantial contributions he planned to be making to the field of material sciences. He could make quite the name for himself. The fact that it could bring much needed relief to Cullen and possibly help many other Templars in the future was simply a minor, ancillary benefit. Certainly, there was little chance that Cullen would in any way be moved by Dorian’s efforts. It was hardly the type of thing that anyone would consider to be romantic or take as a sign of deeper interest.

Assured of his purely selfish motives, Dorian skipped over some chapters providing background on the history and uses of lyrium to dig into a later chapter on symptoms of extended usage. He arranged some writing equipment at a convenient distance to his side and settled in for a long afternoon of reading. 

***

By the time Dorian was due to fetch Solona from Leliana’s all-seeing eye, he had a rough plan of action in place. From his reading, he had identified several promising paths of investigation. Unfortunately, as he’d expected, substantial experimentation would have to be performed, which could take months or years, before even preliminary conclusions could be drawn. Further, it was unlikely that many Inquisition resources could be diverted to the cause, as it wouldn't directly impact the fight against Corypheus. However, Dorian had an excellent idea of how to gain the assistance of a talented volunteer that was nearly guaranteed to work. 

Better still, the mage had developed a few other theories from his reading that, while unproven, had very little chance to be harmful to a test subject such as, say, a former Templar already voluntarily withdrawing from lyrium. Several bits of information had suggested that lyrium, when ingested, attached and grew within the host. This hypothesis was substantiated by Dorian’s own observations of Red Templars and had some bizarre implications regarding the nature of lyrium itself. His reading later mentioned that lyrium breaks down quite quickly with the application of heat and pressure. This was meant as caution against overworking the material during enchantment or storing lyrium potions in direct sunlight. Dorian hoped it could be applied as a therapy, perhaps in the form of heated stones or other forms of massage. Dorian was eager to make a guinea pig of the Commander--strictly in the name science, of course. 

First, though, Dorian needed some help. As he descended from Leliana’s tower, child dozing on his shoulder, he presented his plan to his daughter, adding a few details here and there as new ideas arose. The mage felt a small pang of guilt at deliberately using his daughter as a bribe to help her other father. Solona had perked up a bit during her father's speech and assured him with happy gurgles that she didn't mind. Just in time, it seemed, for their arrival in the Undercroft. Dorian was relieved to see that the rude blacksmith appeared to be elsewhere. His project was sensitive in nature, after all, and he didn't want to involve any more than necessary. 

Dagna was excited to see them and cooed for several moments at Solona before getting down to brass tacks. “Have you reconsidered my request to run some tests on Solona?” she asked with a small bounce of hopefulness. “I would only need a few samples.” 

Dorian frowned at the suggestion as part of his opening gambit in the negotiations, “My position is unchanged, I ask that you satisfy your curiosity without traumatizing my child. But that wasn't the intention of my visit: I'd hoped to discuss your experience with lyrium, possibly make an exchange of research.”

“Having problems with potency in the field? They're only fully effective for about two months…”

“No, no, nothing for me. I'd ask for your discretion in this, but I've been doing some preliminary research into the effects of long-term lyrium use and cessation. Tevinter Circles have done some investigation in this area but I want to develop some concrete answers. I've got a few ideas on some experiments and I wanted your opinion as well as any help you can provide.”

As expected, Dagna’s eyes lit up at the prospect of a new investigation. The dwarf’s thirst for knowledge was as inexhaustible as it was irrepressible. Dorian was honestly rather frightened of her, or more to the point, what she might one day uncover. “Did the Inquisitor ask you about this? You know, she was down here last month asking me about lyrium addiction but she got all glassy eyed when I started answering her questions and left before we got anywhere.”

Dorian attempted to quickly cover his surprise at this new information so that he might turn it to his advantage. He didn’t want to disclose the private struggle that Cullen had revealed to him through his efforts, so he hoped the Inquisitor would forgive that he used her as a ready excuse. “Ah--yes, though it's not something we want to make a priority, it's a clear weakness in our enemy. The Inquisitor delegated to me, I'm afraid, when she realized the task might require cracking a book.”

Dagna giggled at Dorian’s exaggerated eye roll at the Inquisitor’s expense then grabbed the notes he'd set down at her work station. The two quickly became embroiled in an in depth discussion of the merits of various study designs and before long the dinner hour was arriving. Dorian made his excuses, citing the ever present needs of Solona for his abrupt departure. 

“Wait a second, Pavus, don't run off just yet. We still need to set some terms for this research exchange.”

Dorian had hoped that by distracting Dagna with magical questions he'd be able to get out without anything further. “Kaffas. You've seen through me--and from all the way down there! Impressive.”

“A short joke. You can do better, mage.” Dagna said, unimpressed. 

“Very well. I had thought that, in light of your _very_ helpful assistance I _might_ consider providing some non-invasive tissue samples from Solona and myself.”

“I won't do it for less than monthly samples. And you've got to include gum swabs and hair, or there's no point. Cullen’s, too.”

It had been the counteroffer Dorian had expected. Unfortunate, but tolerable. “Done,” he agreed. “You drive a hard bargain, my dear.”

Dagna just grinned and waved him out of the Undercroft. Reflecting on his plans for the evening, Dorian eagerly hurried out to get Solona to bed so he could begin his experimentation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get excited, readers. You've almost made it to the point I was at when I started posting this story! It wasn't as long as it is now, I added some more fluff because apparently that's all my brain is capable of creating. 
> 
> I've not been as productive in writing this week because Pokemon Go. I don't think I'm in danger of catching up to myself...yet. 10K words seems like a healthy buffer. Right? Right. I thought I was close to finishing the story, but I have at least six more ideas of chapters. So, if you are interested at all in how far I anticipate this going, I'd say this is shaping up to be about 20 chapters total.


	10. Therapy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

“Dorian, while I appreciate the thought, this is unnecessary. I'm fine.”

“Cullen, please hush, you'll wake Solona. Firstly, you clearly have a headache. Don't try to deny it; you've been rubbing your neck all evening. Secondly, this is for science! Think of all the other Templars you could help if we can develop successful therapies. Now, lay down on your stomach, please.”

Cullen reluctantly complied with Dorian’s request, settling himself along their shared bed. Dorian had extracted the Commander’s compliance in the midst of Solona’s bedtime routine without going into too much detail. It was only once the baby was down for the evening (i.e. the next four or five hours) that Cullen realized what the “experiment” entailed. He was now mostly naked, with only his small clothes and a towel to protect his modesty, making the blush on his ears and the back of his neck clearly visible. 

Dorian distracted himself from the tempting sight by digging through his toiletries for some of his favorite scented oils. After successful procurement, and a few fortifying breaths, Dorian approached his friend. His tall, broad, well-built, mostly-naked friend. Rather, his lyrium-addicted, former Templar, co-parent. Yes, that was better. The mage took the towel from the Commander, arranging it to cover him more fully while also allowing for its convenient removal when it got in the way. He then poured some oil into his hands and rubbed his palms together to warm it up. He chanced a quick glance down at Cullen and found him almost on the verge of sleep. 

“Comfy?” he asked, smoothly. 

A single eye cracked to look up at him from the bed. “Not with you looming overhead,” Cullen drawled, sleep edging his voice.

“Well, I am an evil Vint. We loom from time to time, if only to keep in practice. Now, pay attention, please. This is important. Despite the length of time you've abstained from lyrium, there is likely a substantial amount still built-up in your system. As we’ve observed on the Red Templars and their unfortunate victims, lyrium has a tendency to adhere to and grow within the body. While the effects are much more exaggerated in the red variety, it is likely that both kinds behave in the same way. However, the good news is that lyrium is very susceptible to heat and pressure, so that is what I shall be treating you with. I will magically heat my hands and apply pressure to your trouble spots--like your neck, for example. Please describe to me how it feels so I can record what is and is not effective.”

“Thus far it feels like I'm being loomed over by an evil Tevinter Magister. It's rather unpleasant.”

Dorian tsked in annoyance and began rubbing a magically chilled hand to the back of Cullen’s neck in vengeance. The man emitted a very undignified yelp and flinched away but settled as Dorian’s hand heated back up. “You're very clever. Try to be more constructive,” the mage requested. Dorian focused his efforts along the other man’s spine and shoulders, alternating between steady firm pressure and lighter rhythmic rubbing. Cullen quickly relaxed, humming quietly as the mage worked out particularly troublesome areas. 

After a while, Cullen’s eye cracked open again briefly. “Could you make your hands cold again? It was most effective when you went cold then hot rapidly. My headache disappeared almost immediately after you iced my neck but it's starting to return now.”

“Hmm. How unexpected,” Dorian replied, chilling his hands again as he moved up Cullen’s back then quickly reverting to warmth as goosebumps appeared along the other man’s shoulders. “Like that?” Dorian asked, when Cullen had not responded for a few moments.

“Mmmm,” was all Cullen would say, so Dorian continued, valiantly ignoring the quiet sounds of pleasure that were coming from his patient. Well, most of Dorian valiantly ignored the sounds. He wasn’t made of stone, after all. 

“So?” Dorian prodded again, if only to keep his mind focused on something other than his growing arousal. Cullen sighed and for a moment the mage thought that might be the only response forthcoming. He’d just decided to cease his ministrations to encourage further dialogue--after all, this _was_ for science--when Cullen finally replied. 

“The cold is uncomfortable and a bit painful but when you hit it abruptly with the heat it … sort of tingles? At this point, it almost feels as though I’ve had a draught of lyrium. The aches in my limbs and head have gone and I can feel a slight rush of power,” Cullen paused, frowning a bit, “You don’t think this will set back my recovery, do you?”

Dorian looked up from the notes he had been jotting down at his nightstand and reflected on what he knew on the subject. “Well, I’m no healer, but I should think this can only help. After all, the lyrium was already inside of you. If we have successfully worked it loose, then it should reduce the severity of the pains you feel on a daily basis and reduce your cravings for the substance. It might be wise, however, to limit the duration of these treatments to perhaps 30 minutes or so. That way you won’t experience the high that comes with a full draught of lyrium. We’ve been at this, what, an hour? And you’re just starting to feel the effects significantly. If we conduct this therapy daily and for 20 to 30 minutes or less it shouldn’t cause any issues.”

“I think I could tolerate this therapy every day. Especially after a day with the recruits.” Cullen shut his eyes and emitted a contented sigh as he burrowed further into the mattress. It was terribly endearing and Dorian was thankful that the man didn’t seem to be inclined to leave. If his luck held, Dorian could sneak out and quietly attend to the personal issues that had _arisen_ during the massage that even a dry discussion of lyrium treatments couldn’t fully quell before Cullen was any the wiser. 

As was typical for Dorian, however, luck was _not_ with him. When he rose from the bed, Cullen abruptly reached out to grab his wrist and his attention. In so doing, he knocked against Dorian’s thigh, causing him to gasp a little sharply, as though in pain (or especially sensitized). Whatever Cullen had been about to say fled as concern entered his features. He rolled off his stomach to sit up and more fully face the mage as he quickly examined Dorian for the injury his gasp implied. He quickly determined the actual cause for concern and promptly turned beet red. “Dorian, I apologize! I didn’t mean … I just … ah …” 

As soon as Cullen sat up, Dorian had rapidly moved through a full gamut of embarrassed emotions. The other man’s adorable fumbling, however, provided him the time necessary to compose himself sufficiently. Bravado was the tried and true Pavus solution to an uncomfortable situation and Dorian fell into it instinctively. “No apologies necessary, my friend,” Dorian replied, allowing a lascivious smirk to form as he gave Cullen a full up and down ogling, “In fact, I should be the one to offer apologies. I’m afraid I allowed myself to enjoy the advantages of my prescribed therapy a bit too fully. Don’t worry your pretty head, though, Commander, I wouldn’t impose on you further. I’m working on reforming my evil Tevinter ways, after all. I’ll just be off, then.” 

The mage had crossed the room during this speech, hoping to make it out the door and through a hole straight to the Void before Cullen regained the capacity for speech. Luck, however, had clearly bedded down early this night because Cullen called out as Dorian’s hand touched the door handle.

“Wait, Dorian. Please. It’s hardly necessary for you to leave your own room.” Cullen was still quite flushed, but he no longer looked as embarrassed as he did … hopeful? Panicked? Could one be hopefully panicked? “Maker knows it isn't as though I haven't thought about it. About _you_. And what I might say in this situation.” Cullen’s speech petered off then and he turned away to stare intensely at the floor. 

Dorian’s eyes widened considerably at this admission. It was, in fact, the last reaction he'd expected from the Commander. Perhaps Adaar’s speculation wasn’t totally off the mark, after all. Turning to face the other man again, he gave him an examining look before throwing out one last flirtation, to test the waters. “Just thinking?” he asked quietly. “I thought you were a man of action. We have to fight for what’s in our hearts.” 

Cullen looked up at him, surprise and hope flickering across his face as he rose to meet Dorian who found himself slowly moving back across the room. Dorian, sufficiently convinced by Cullen's expression, was abruptly unwilling to wait another second to find out what it could be like to truly share a bed with the Commander. He grabbed the other man by the shoulders as he drew close and swiftly pressed their lips together. Cullen was quick to respond in kind and they shared several bruising, teeth-clacking kisses before drawing slightly apart, breathing heavily. 

“That was… nice,” Cullen finished lamely, chest heaving to pull in air. 

“Nice? We'll have to do better than that, I'm afraid,” Dorian responded with a grin, leaning back in for a proper kiss with attention to detail this time. A nip on the lip here and a tongue placed _just_ there. With their shared passion affirmed from the intensity of their previous kiss, both men sought now to demonstrate their oral talents. Dorian crowded the Commander back onto the bed, lips never leaving his body as he encouraged the warrior to lay back down so he could drape himself on top. Soon Dorian was grinding himself against Cullen’s thigh, just a few belts away from consummation. The room was filled with the sounds of teeth, tongues, and labored breathing. 

Dorian reached for a buckle, eager to get to the fun part of the evening, when Cullen pulled back slightly, covering the hand at the buckle with his own. “Dorian, wait. I… I didn't even think this was possible. That you might want … What _is it_ that you want, exactly?”

Thwarted, Dorian dropped his hand and leaned back, frowning slightly in consideration of the question. It was a fair one, especially considering they shared many intimate aspects of their lives already. “I suppose I hadn't given it much thought. Or rather,” he added, with a slight grimace of shame, “I'd only given thought to one particular aspect of what I want.”

The pair allowed the silence to grow around them for a moment, both reflecting on the ramifications of adding a new element to their relationship and steadfastly refusing to make eye contact. “Where I come from,” Dorian began, speaking slowly into the awkwardness between them, “anything between two men ... it's about pleasure. It’s accepted, but taken no further. You learn not to hope for more. You’d be foolish to.” Dorian paused again with a sigh, reflecting on some of the more unfortunate events that had brought him to this moment.

Cullen sat up a bit and took Dorian’s hand, brimming with earnest sincerity. “We already have more together, Dorian. We’re building that right now. When this war is over, I won’t be moving on - not from Solona or from you.” Cullen looked away with a slight frown, shaking his head in frustration. “But I don’t know what you -- that is, if you, ah…”

Dorian smiled a little, suddenly in a much better mood, “And you were doing so well, too! Let’s just take this one step at a time, hm? You like me, I like you, and neither of us is interested in moving on.” At that, an answering smile grew on Cullen’s face as Dorian continued. “It’s all very nice this ‘feelings’ business. I am, however, not a nice man. So here is my proposal: we dispense with the chit chat and move on to something more primal.” He leaned forward again into Cullen’s embrace so that his breath would tease the other man’s earlobe as he asked, “How bad does the Commander want to be?”

The answer appeared to be _very_ bad. Cullen required no further prompting or discussion, surging forward to claim Dorian’s mouth with his own. Dorian noted to himself that with the proper encouragement Cullen could be very _commanding_. All hesitation had vanished as his tongue pushed into Dorian’s mouth, stroking and twining with the one that resided there. His hands stroked up Dorian’s sides, moving up to cup the sides of his face and turning their shared passion suddenly sweet. 

From his more advantageous position, Dorian moved over Cullen until he was fully reclined atop the other man. This enabled him to move his body against Cullen’s, pulling moans of satisfaction from them both. Not one to be so easily out maneuvered, Cullen reached down with one hand to grab Dorian’s ass and slow his movements from provocatory to sensual. Dorian’s initial frustration quickly faded as he became fully enraptured by the exchange of kisses and caresses. The fire between them didn't fizzle with the slow pace but instead continued to build in intensity until Dorian felt like he was being consumed with pleasure. 

As Dorian relaxed into the slower pace, Cullen utilized his distraction to flip the mage off and over so they were lying side by side. With greater mobility, Cullen began to explore the rest of the other man’s body, slowly removing clothing as he stroked and licked his way down Dorian’s torso. When he reached his goal, Dorian’s cock seemed to stretch out to meet him. Cullen hummed appreciatively as he palmed the length in a quick stroke before divesting the mage of his remaining clothes. 

Cullen leaned back to take in the view more fully. “Maker, but you are beautiful,” he breathed as he moved forward again and swallowed down Dorian’s cock in one smooth movement. A loud expletive tore from Dorian’s throat at the unexpected move while Cullen began to slowly work him with his hand and his tongue. It wasn't long before Dorian was panting loudly and wiggling his hips slightly as he desperately tried not to fuck his partner’s face. It was then that Cullen pulled back and, with a parting lick from root to tip, moved back up to Dorian’s lips. The trace hints of musk that clung to Cullen’s mouth drove Dorian up the wall and the mage pushed his partner back so he could gasp out, “You… in me… now… grab the oil,” 

Cullen obediently moved to comply and while the other man was distracted by blindly searching for the vial of oil behind him, Dorian slunk his way down to Cullen’s straining prick. At some point the Commander’s smalls had been cast aside and Dorian took this opportunity to admire the unobstructed view. He gave a few light tugs before dipping down to taste the precome leaking from the head. Cullen jerked as though shocked then attempted to gently knee Dorian away so he could actually obtain the vial of oil without spilling it everywhere. Dorian grabbed onto Cullen hips, growling a bit at being denied a thorough taste. 

Before the mage could reclaim his prize, Cullen gave up his quest for oil to fully pry Dorian off him. As a pair of strong arms moved to wrap around him, the mage squirmed to get away, accidentally brushing a hand past Cullen underarm. The move caused Cullen to emit a high-pitched, involuntary squeal. Dorian paused briefly in surprise, an evil grin crossing his face as he dove onto Cullen with gusto, a new goal at the forefront of his mind. Neither man came forth a winner in the ensuing tussle. Dorian was awarded several bruises along his shins while Cullen had narrowly missed an elbow to the face and had stubbed both of his big toes. A truce was declared after the near black eye and both men collapsed on the bed panting and giggling with exhaustion. 

After several moments, Cullen flung one arm over to the side table and lifted the vial in the air where they could both see it. “A peace offering, my Lord,” he proclaimed with uncharacteristic dramatics.

Dorian laughed but made no move to accept the vial. His mind was still swirling from the abrupt shifts in the evening. He had never successfully seduced a man only to have it degrade into a childish wrestling contest. He thought perhaps one or both of them should be upset, but Dorian, for one, was too warm and happy to mind. He turned his head slightly and observed no upset on Cullen's face either, only a soft smile. The other man shifted to face Dorian at the sound of his movement and the smile grew as their eyes met. “This is better than nice,” Cullen said, shifting further to put an arm over Dorian’s side and pull him closer. “I fear we got a bit distracted, though.”

“Mmm. I suppose I should be concerned that my sexual appeal is fading, but I can't quite manage it at the moment,” Dorian replied, snuggling a bit closer so he could breathe in Cullen’s scent. As he shifted, he felt a questing hand ease slowly down between the cheeks of his ass, a warm, slicked finger traveling lower until it brushed against his hole. Dorian hissed in pleasure as it made a lazy circle before penetrating carefully, in and out slowly to spread the slick. He pushed back against Cullen hand to encourage him onward, but the other man maintained a slow, methodical pace, kissing him deeply as consolation. The strokes of their tongues mimicked the movement of Cullen’s hand as he added a second finger and then a third at the same sedate pace. When Cullen finally removed his hand, Dorian was reluctant to allow Cullen to shift away, leaning into the space as he vacated it. 

Instead of flipping Dorian onto his stomach, as he'd anticipated, Cullen moved over Dorian to lay behind him, wrapping one arm around the mage’s midsection as the other guided his slicked cock smoothly into Dorian’s ass. After a few slow, firm thrusts Dorian decided he might like this position even better. There was no part of Dorian that wasn't completely enveloped in Cullen and it was _glorious_. Every part of him was tuned directly to the other man as he peppered kisses down his shoulder and stroked a thumb across his nipple. As the pace increased, a slicked hand began pumping Dorian’s cock in time with each thrust. Dorian moaned shamelessly, arching his body to push back and then forward into both points of stimulation. This movement changed the angle just so and abruptly Dorian saw stars, crying out as he came onto the bedspread. He heard an answering moan behind him and two hard, jerking thrusts later he felt Cullen’s seed spill inside him. 

The pair lay against each other for a few moments, breathing heavily as the sweat on their bodies began to dry. Dorian leaned his head back against Cullen while the other man nuzzled his face into the crook of Dorian’s neck, inhaling deeply. 

“We've made a complete mess of the bed,” Dorian said finally. “Excellent work, Commander.”

Dorian felt Cullen smile into his shoulder, “I recall you playing a prominent role as well. I was quite impressed.”

Smiling a bit smugly, Dorian flipped to face his lover and received a lazy, toe curling, kiss for his trouble. “We'll need to clean up before we fall asleep in all… this” he said eventually, breaking for air as the kisses moved along his chin towards the shell of his ear. 

“Mhm,” was the only reply he received and truly, Dorian wasn't terribly concerned with the state of their bedclothes either. However, shortly after he'd begun to place experimental love bites along Cullen’s collarbone, a cry arose from the other bedroom. Dorian was surprised until he looked around to realize it was much later than he thought. Cullen rose from the bed then offered a hand of assistance to Dorian as well. “I'll clean up in here while you feed Solona. It _is_ your turn, I believe.”

“I accept your terms. No rest for the wicked, after all.” Dorian grinned, leaving a light smack on Cullen’s bare ass as he departed the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeeeeeeeexxxx. :D
> 
> Sorry, I'm not mature enough to handle these adult themes. 
> 
> For the life of me I can't tell if this sex scene is any good or not. Is it hot? I haven't written anymore smut in this story because I was having trouble evaluating it and I'm typically kind of shit at description anyway. This is a story of facts. Please read the previous sentence as Ron Swanson.
> 
> Therefore, please please please let me know 1) if you'd like to see more sexy times and 2) how I might improve the sexy times. 
> 
> Also, incidentally, this is the chapter I was finishing up when I started posting this story.


	11. Afterglow

The next morning, Cullen and Solona spent several hours excavating Cullen’s desk from the mountains of reports that had fossilized it. Solona helped by trying to eat every object within arms reach and, when those items were removed, her hand. She had difficulty getting her hand into her mouth, but that didn't appear to cause any frustration. Meanwhile Cullen reviewed, categorized, forwarded, and disposed of the various issues that had arisen over the past few days. He remained headache free throughout the morning and made a surprising amount of progress. By midmorning he could actually see his desk even with several of his captains stopping by to discuss training and personnel. The unusual productivity continued until Cassandra stopped by around lunch. It was her afternoon with Solona and she typically liked to pick her up to 1) ensure that she actually received the baby and 2) force Cullen to eat. Cullen may have, in the past, forgotten about performing both tasks.

“You seem to be in good spirits this morning, Cullen,” she commented, approaching his desk. “I heard say one of your captains say that you were _whistling_ earlier. And you are smiling! What has happened?”

Cullen glowered at his friend, though the full effect of the expression was only maintained for a few seconds before the smile returned. It had been irrepressible all morning but he’d hardly noticed. “I have been known to smile,” he replied, indignantly.

Cassandra stared at him silently. A full minute ticked by, Cullen’s blush growing by the second. “Fine!” he huffed eventually, “Dorian and I … well, that is last night we reached an … we’ve moved forward in our relationship.”

Cassandra frowned with confusion. “I am uncertain of your meaning, Cullen. Do you mean to say that the two of you are now together? Romantically?”

Cullen was now feeling decidedly hot from the large quantities of blood moving to his face. “Ah. Yes.”

“OH! This is wonderful news!” Cassandra rushed around the desk to enthusiastically hug the man with such force that Cullen feared for the integrity of his armor. “You have been mooning over the man for months, I was starting to fear that you would never make a move. What happened? You must tell me everything.”

Cullen glanced away as he stepped back from Cassandra, unwilling to share the details of the evening before and disconcerted by a side of his friend that he'd never seen. “I would prefer that my private affairs remain such.” he replied primly. He glanced back has he heard an unconcealed sigh of disgust from Cassandra and smiled a bit sheepishly. “Well, I will say that he is just as excellent at everything as he claims to be. Also, he's found some promising avenues for managing the symptoms of lyrium withdrawal.”

“I do not think the healers will be willing to provide the kind of personal attention you received last night, Cullen.” Cassandra replied wryly.

Heat began climbing back up Cullen’s face. “That was not the type of treatment I was referring to. Dorian and Dagna know the details, but I expect we can find someone willing to perform massage. _Non-sexual_ massage. Stop looking at me like that.”

Cassandra did not stop looking at Cullen with an expression of amused surprise. She did, however, grab Solona and her bag of supplies in preparation to leave. She patted Cullen on the shoulder as she headed out to the courtyard. “I apologize for teasing you, Commander. You are simply too tempting a target. I will speak with Dorian later about these treatments he's found. Perhaps they will be of use.”

Cullen sighed in relief as she departed his office. He hadn't thought that his and Dorian’s… activities from the night before would be so apparent to the greater populace of Skyhold so quickly. Certainly, he had been in a very good mood today and he felt physically better than he had in ages. Perhaps since he'd first started lyrium. But he didn't think that he was typically in such a great amount of pain that it affected his interactions with others.

Or had he been? Perhaps he'd successfully restrained himself from being as harsh as he might have been most days, but he also rarely went out of his way to be friendly. His work typically required all of his focus and energy, leaving no time to actually get to know the recruits or mentor his officers. Reflecting back even further, the lyrium draughts had typically left him foggy, as if there was a haze between him and other people. He was not a gregarious person by nature, so he hadn't noticed or been particularly bothered by the isolated world in which he lived. Nevertheless, a good leader was in touch with the rank and file. He needed to do better and there was no time like the present.

With his work complete, for once, and Solona with Cassandra, Cullen suddenly had a full afternoon in which to get back in touch with his men. He bent to pen a quick note to his officers to arrange an impromptu lunch and made his way to the dining hall, mentally planning some surprise inspections and maybe even a short nap, time permitting. After all, that was stated among his afternoon duties and Cullen was nothing if not dutiful.

***

Dorian’s afternoon had been surprisingly productive, especially when considering his slow start that morning. The mage had barely stirred when Cullen and Solona departed at (what he assumed to be, he didn't open his eyes) first light, only mumbling a goodbye when Cullen placed a departing kiss on his forehead. He had then taken the opportunity to sleep three additional hours, having taken most of the baby's night feedings upon himself the night before. It had been the first time he'd ever observed Cullen experience anything resembling restful sleep and he hadn't wanted it disrupted.

By the time Dorian had emerged into the keep, the midday meal was well underway. He'd caught a glimpse of Cullen actually eating in the hall with some of the officers, laughing and engaging with the others like it was a normal occurrence, and had to look around to verify that he was no longer in the fade. Once his meal had been procured, he wandered over to investigate the phenomenon and found himself guided to a seat right next to the Commander with several welcoming pats on the back. The officers, not one of whom he'd ever met, were eager to thank him for his efforts in getting their Commander to finally take a break. Cullen spent most of the meal sheepishly admitting that he'd perhaps been working too hard. Dorian did not linger after he'd finished his brunch, not wanting to take Cullen away from his men, and departed with a friendly squeeze of Cullen’s shoulder for the Undercroft.

Dagna immediately jumped on him as he entered and the two quickly became embroiled in a discussion of the lyrium treatments Dorian had trialed the night before. By the time he resurfaced, it was almost dinner time and past when he was due to fetch Solona. He made a mad dash across the keep, never running, mind you, but employing a few fade steps when not on the busiest routes. He still received a reprimand from Cassandra but Solona had not yet begun bawling for her bottle so the effort was not wasted.

Upon returning to his rooms, Dorian was greeted by the rare sight of the Commander. In their rooms. Not working. Not in armor. For the second time that day Dorian had the strangest feeling of being trapped in a waking dream. They spent a few hours together with Solona, sitting on the floor keeping her entertained as they talked about their respective days. It was entirely too domestic. After Solona was put to bed, Dorian wondered aloud if perhaps his father's blood magic had worked as intended after all. His day had been, quite simply, too unusual.

Cullen gave him a rather distressed look at that. “Ah… what _was_ it your father intended, exactly?” he asked, clearly trying, and failing, to speak carefully. “We never discussed it. Not that we should.” he added, hastily, giving Dorian an exit should he want it. “It's just, well, if you'd like to talk about it, I'm happy to listen. It seems as if it troubles you.”

“Being brought up to hate blood magic only to have your father turn malificar the second you refuse to live life as he dictates _is_ troubling.” Dorian sighed, shaking his head, “Perhaps I should speak of it, before I choke on all this vitriol. Very well. I prefer the company of men, as you may have noticed. My father disapproves.”

“Rather strongly, it seemed. However, that is hardly sufficient reason to use blood magic.”

“It is if you are trying to distill the perfect mage--perfect mind, perfect body, perfect leader--as all high ranking families in Tevinter are. Every perceived flaw, every aberration, is deviant and shameful. It must be hidden. I refused to play pretend for the rest of my life, be the good son, marry the girl. Selfish, I suppose, not to want to spend my entire life screaming on the inside. So he… tried to _change_ me, alter my mind, make me acceptable. Nevermind that it could also leave me a drooling vegetable. I found out. I left. Then, the afternoon you so insistently accompanied me to Redcliffe, he tried again. No doubt he won't stop until he has the heir he wants: obedient, married, and in Tevinter.”

Dorian sighed heavily and looked away towards the window. He felt a touch on his shoulders just before being drawn into Cullen’s arms. “Your father will not succeed. I will not allow it.”

Dorian smirked sadly, “Your knight in shining armor is showing, Cullen.”

Cullen huffed at the dismissal, “You have the full support of everyone here. With some luck we'll soon capture your father, hold a trial, and you will be able to live without this hanging over you.”

“An optimistic outlook but I suppose we've already seen the Inquisitor work the impossible more than once. Now then, I hope you've got some wine for me, because this isn't the kind of conversation I can have and then remain sober.”

“We may soon drink the keep dry, between the two of us,” Cullen replied with an air of resignation, as he grabbed a bottle delivered with their dinner. “I won’t be able to withstand these Winter Palace arrangements without alcoholic fortification. Josephine sent a missive this morning to schedule a fitting for some kind of uniform and a _series_ of meetings regarding appropriate behavior in preparation. And I’m sure that won’t be the end of it. I had hoped, with Solona, that she would not expect _us_ to be in attendance.” Cullen groaned and rubbed his face. “It will be intolerable.”

Dorian patted his shoulder consolingly. “I think we can find _some_ way to keep you entertained,” he said with a wink. Cullen blushed but leaned in to give Dorian a gentle kiss. The rest of the evening was passed in much the same way and Dorian found it to be so much better than anything his mind conjured in the fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to nauseatingly high levels of fluff. Question of the week: Can there be too much fluff? Is there such a thing? Discuss.
> 
> Next week we'll try to pretend that this story has some plot to it. After that I'll try to fill some reader requests until I figure out how to end this because I think I'm about tapped out here. I think I should add some more baby-cuteness too. Solona hasn't really been the focus as much as I'd originally intended. Something to ponder.


	12. Party Time

“Commander, the music this evening is delightful. You simply _must_ dance with me.”

Cullen didn't even turn towards the unknown masked woman as he replied for the hundredth time, “No thank you.” The flock of men and women around him had appeared as soon as he'd been announced in the ballroom and he could not seem to discourage them. It was incredibly frustrating, not simply because it prevented him from fulfilling his duties but also because they simply refused to pay him any common courtesy. He had been groped on no less than three separate occasions, had his requests for privacy ignored, and his refusal to engage in conversation was apparently a source of great amusement. He steadfastly refused to neglect his own manners, as that would mean they had won, but it was taking all his restraint to not glower and snap at the tittering nobles as if they were raw recruits. Even that was waning fast, as he could feel a headache creeping up the back of his neck--his first since Dorian had begun administering a regular massage.

Despite Cullen’s most reasoned arguments, the other advisors remained obstinate in their insistence that all prominent members of the Inquisition travel to Halamshiral. It was doubly frustrating now that he was here and proving to be just as useless as he feared, unless one counted providing endless amusement for Leliana, who was watching his suffering from across the room with unconcealed mirth. Traitor.

Even Dorian had abandoned him, citing a need to catch up on the latest gossip and ensure that favorable rumors of the Inquisitor were being spread. Cullen suspected that the man was also, consciously or unconsciously, avoiding appearing in public together. While their relationship, new intimacy included, was common knowledge around Skyhold, it was one thing to hold hands while crossing a courtyard of friends and another thing to dance together on the Empress’ ballroom floor. Dorian was used to having to hide who he was and such instincts weren't erased with a few intimate moments and reassuring words. Cullen sighed, wishing his feelings, which he suspected were beginning to run quite deep, could heal the emotional wounds of his paramour.

However, Dorian was right to play his cards close to the vest. From a strategic point of view, any weakness, emotional or social included, could be exploited by any of the threats hidden within the partygoers, even Dorian’s father. Leliana’s agents had yet to catch up to the man or divine his next moves, which meant he could be anywhere and strike at any time. That didn't just put Dorian at risk, either. Those closest to him, such as a boyfriend, perhaps, or especially a vulnerable child, were just as likely to be targeted.

This had been Cullen’s primary concern and his motivation through the discussions leading up to the ball to have at least one of them, but preferably both, remain in Skyhold with Solona. It was infinitely more defensible, better for the child, who needed her routine and familiarity to feel happy and safe, close to numerous allies, and so on. Cullen had expounded at length upon all these topics but eventually the Inquisitor had shut him down, pointing out that while the occasion was more diplomatic and covert in nature, Cullen was responsible for the security of Inquisition personnel and the Empress. Furthermore, should the evening turn really south, they'd likely need his assistance in withdrawing from Halamshiral. Still, Cullen felt he could fulfill the majority of these goals from Skyhold just as well and he wasn't happy with the decision. He didn't think it was selfish to want to prioritize the safety of his child.

At least Solona had traveled fairly well. She had seemed excited and happy to be seeing so many new places and things, so long as her two favorite people were within easy reach. The two parents traded off carrying her in her sling during the trip and she twisted around in every direction to make sure she didn't miss a single thing. Shortly before their departure she'd begun to roll over on her own, quickly learning within a few days that the maneuver could transport her where she wanted to go. This translated to a very wiggly baby on the road. A wiggly, clingy baby who was unwilling to let either of them out of her sight. It was incredibly tiring and nerve wracking to carry her while mounted but unfortunately the coach they’d initially planned on using had scared Solona. She had been inconsolable until the contraption was completely out of view and Cullen thought it may even have given her a nightmare that evening.

Thinking about Solona was only increasing Cullen’s agitation at being forced to spend the evening away from her while being manhandled like a piece of meat. In an attempt to redirect that energy into something more productive, Cullen excused himself from his unwanted entourage and began to walk the perimeter of the ballroom. He’d already made two rounds this evening as unobtrusively as possible. It wasn’t as though patrolling behaviors weren’t expected of former Templars, so he hardly thought his behavior would be notable. The Inquisitor returned to the ballroom just as he reached the main entrance. She urgently waved him over as soon as she saw him.

“Go find Dorian. He should be out in the garden. Meet us back by Josie.”

Cullen was immediately unsettled by the Inquisitor’s tone and tight expression and turned with only a brief word of acknowledgement to the set of hallways he'd seen Dorian depart through earlier. Luckily, Dorian had made himself easy to find, placing himself prominently by a fountain in the garden. Cullen was able to quickly signal him without issue, significantly lowering his stress levels once the mage was at his side.

“Couldn't stay away, hmm?” Dorian purred, but the flirtation was empty. Though his tone and expression were mostly normal, Cullen could easily see the strain of worry around his eyes. Still, he returned Dorian’s smile as best as he could, knowing that it was for the benefit of those around them.

“I am but a moth to your flame, ser,” Cullen replied with a small bow. When he straightened to meet Dorian’s eyes he fancied the strain there had relaxed somewhat. Placing a hand at the small of the mage’s back, he guided him through the crowd to the ballroom.

Cullen rushed them both through the labyrinthine maze of masked faces and ostentatious rooms, uncomfortable with lingering amongst the viper pit of Orlesian nobility. The tension caused by the Inquisitor’s unexplained urgency and the unpleasant company was making his skin crawl. As the pair passed by a couple of whispering elven servants hurrying past, Dorian suddenly slowed, examining the empty passageway surreptitiously. He made eye contact with Cullen then pointedly looked toward an adjoining balcony a floor up. The strategist in him idly noted that it would be a good staging ground for an ambush a moment before a dagger-wielding rogue materialized just behind his partner.

Cullen yanked hard on Dorian to pull him out of the path of the deadly blade and seconds later felt the tingle of Dorian’s magical barrier fall over them both. The Commander was impressed by the mage’s quick reflexes, undoubtedly honed from months in the field with Adaar. Unfortunately the barrier would be of little protection while they remained unarmored and unarmed nor would it slow the forward progress of their assailant who remained unfazed by the two men’s quick response.

The attacker deftly feinted to the side then dove forward again, to finish them off before either could develop a cohesive defensive strategy. As Dorian stepped away to avoid contact with the flashing blade, Cullen darted forward to grab the knife-wielding arm and pull the dagger away. With Dorian’s movement as a distraction, Cullen was able to get a solid grip on the rogue and use his momentum to swing the man forward into the nearby railing. He smashed the man’s arm violently against the marble until he heard the clink of the knife hitting the stone a floor down.

“Amatus, step back,” Dorian snapped. Cullen hastily released the assailant and backed away a pace just as a magical cage of lightning coalesced around the rogue’s form. It paralyzed him instantly, giving them both a moment to assess their surroundings and catch their breath.

 “While my magic does improve the ambience of this dreadful hall, I’m afraid we can’t leave him out here. The cage won’t hold for long. What do you think of one of these rooms?” Dorian asked, gesturing to the doors leading off of the passageway.

Taking control of the situation came naturally to the Commander. “Take the far doorway and I’ll check this one. Pray one of them will be of use.”

Cullen’s door was locked, but luckily Dorian was able to get into the other. The taxidermied animals were of little help but Cullen was able to find some bits in the adjoining office with which to restrain the rogue while Dorian retrieved him from the hallway. With the threat firmly secured, barred in the empty office, and knocked out with a blow to the back of the head from a stuffed nug, Cullen turned his attention to next steps.

“I’d rather not leave him unattended but it would be a greater risk to separate ourselves,” Cullen released his aggravation in a breath as both he and Dorian crossed back to the hall. “We were lucky that we only encountered a single opponent. Perhaps Leliana will be able to get some information from him.”

Cullen checked that their exit was clear before hastily striding out towards the ballroom, Dorian close at his side. Leliana and Josephine were easily spotted, their relief just as plain as the pair approached.

“The Inquisitor should be back soon. I believe I saw her speaking with the Empress’ new arcane advisor,” Josephine explained as they drew near.

“We must be making some waves,” Dorian commented, looking impressed. Then, as an overly loud aside to Cullen, “A new advisor would not risk her mediocre clout by being seen with a qunari unless it was of some benefit to her. This is good news.”

“Dorian, we’ve been through this. I understand the Game I simply do not wish to play. I should think my skill at chess demonstrates that.” Cullen huffed in irritation, both at the teasing and being distracted from much more important matters. Still, his perfidious lips had turned up at one corner briefly despite themselves. He needed to focus on the matters at hand. “Dorian and I were attacked on the way over here. An assassin, likely a mercenary. Leliana, could you have some of your agents interrogate him, find out who hired him?”

“We've locked him up behind the trophy room,” Dorian added, gesturing vaguely in the direction they'd come from.

“Consider it done,” Leliana said coolly as the Inquisitor approached.

“We may not have time for whatever it is you're plotting. Dorian’s father is here. With Venatori.” Adaar’s face did not reflect the distress in her tone. Josephine’s training had been impressively successful.

Cullen put a supportive hand on Dorian’s shoulder. “That likely explains our encounter, then. We were attacked on our way over.”

“And you've captured him?” Adaar concluded. At Cullen’s nod Adaar’s face broke into a feral smile briefly. “Excellent work, boys. Unfortunately, we found several other leads while poking around the palace. I can't spare my team from the primary threat to deal with this. Ideas?”

“We can't pass up this opportunity to capture Magister Pavus,” Leliana stated.

“He's had time to plan and set a trap. We would likely walk right into his hands, gift wrapped and tied up with a bow,” Dorian argued, his agitation growing, though he still appeared nonchalant to the untrained eye.

“He has already failed,” Cullen stated firmly, forcing confidence into his tone to shore up his partner’s nerves. “We know he's here and we have one of his agents. Our next steps are clear.”

Within a few minutes they hashed out everyone's tasks and separated. Cullen guided Dorian back out of the cacophony of the ballroom, intent on keeping him in view for the remainder of the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excitement! Next week will include the obligatory car chase and shoot out. Sorry if that spoils it for you. I really appreciate the continued feedback, guys! Don't worry, we'll get back to the endless fluff soon enough.


	13. To Work

Dorian had been furiously battling crippling panic since learning that his father had come to Halamshiral for him tonight. Only the stalwart presence of Cullen at his side kept his breathing even and his face a disinterested mask. Had Dorian any residual emotional capacity, he would have been feeling pathetic and childish for needing another person's reassurance. Cullen seemed not to mind, though, and kept a warm hand at his back while they rendezvoused with Leliana’s agents. 

The assassin had known very little, which was no surprise. He had confirmed that he had been hired by a man fitting the description of a Pavus slave and the location where he was to exchange Dorian for his payment. It was corroborated by what the Inquisitor had already learned while eavesdropping on the servants so the information was likely accurate. Unfortunately, they'd already missed the meeting time, which meant there was no chance to catching his father by surprise. 

Dorian sighed in frustration while the Commander instructed the agents to smuggle the prisoner off the premises to ensure he remained in Inquisition custody and directed several soldiers waiting outside to follow him. Dorian fell into step alongside them and the party navigated the twisting hallways to move deeper into the guest wing, the probable location of Halward and his trap. 

“It may be for grim circumstances, but it is nice to get away from the ball for awhile.” Cullen commented as they passed out of the public area. 

“You didn't enjoy your admirers, my dear?” Dorian smiled briefly, happy for the distraction of conversation and amused at Cullen’s painfully Fereldan world view. “They were ready to cater to your every whim--a drink, a dance, an orgy.” 

Cullen groaned at the last example while his soldiers at the rear of the group attempted to stifle their laughter. “I fear your assessment is more truth than exaggeration.”

“You are blushing, Commander! Don't tell me you are considering such an offer. It would be the talk of the ball and we shouldn't steal the Inquisitor’s thunder.”

Cullen glared at Dorian, unhappy with the implications of his joke. “You know I am too serious for such folly,” he stated simply, unwilling to go further with an audience. 

A short time later they entered an area of guest suites. As soon as they entered, the glow of lantern light could be seen coming from a door some fifty paces down. Instead of making their way directly there, however, the Commander split the group to scout the other rooms in the area. The reconnaissance was performed quickly and quietly, assuring the group that any unpleasant surprises were contained within the lit room. 

“How should we approach?” Dorian asked quietly, as they regrouped near where they first entered. “My typical grand entrance seems unwise in this scenario.”

“Your father never met his hired help. He won't know his appearance beyond what a description could provide.” Cullen gestured to one of their accompanying guard. “William here meets that, generally. Armed with the assassin’s dagger and escorting you can at least buy us a few moments upon entry. How are you without a staff?”

“Not enough to counter a blood mage. We'll also have to contend with the wards and glyphs he's undoubtedly set up, plus any Venatori who have joined in his fun.” Dorian replied, with a frown. He was feeling decidedly unprepared for another encounter. 

“Could we lure him out? Set up a distraction?” suggested their other companion, a young woman who'd quietly introduced herself as Lysette to Dorian earlier.

“That is not typically effective with maleficar. They know they're at a disadvantage in the open. Perhaps… Lysette, I know you haven't yet mastered a smite, but could you manage a cleanse?”

Lysette nodded. “Yes, though I’m not certain whether I could keep Lord Pavus out of the radius.”

“Barbaric southern strategies? I think I liked subterfuge better.” Dorian complained, without sincerity. 

“We'll use both. We cannot rely upon fooling the Magister for more than a few moments. You’ll serve as a brief distraction while Lysette and I will disable any magical preparations from just outside the room. Lysette, do your best to keep Dorian out of the line of fire. Dorian, I will hold your staff. Retrieve it as soon as possible.”

Cullen scanned the faces of the group to ensure each member understood their role, then nodded firmly in dismissal. Dorian was impressed by Cullen’s methods. The Inquisitor rarely took the time to work through the strategy of an encounter beforehand. However, he was concerned about a portion of the man’s chosen tactics. 

“Cullen, a moment,” he whispered, pulling the man back from the others a few paces. “Do you have any confidence that Halward’s magic will be nullified?” Dorian was frustrated to have to discuss the matter so circumspectly but it would be inappropriate to risk outing the man’s personal struggles in front of his soldiers. 

“There should be something left in me. I have to at least try. Should others learn that I am no longer a Templar, well… that was the purpose of the undertaking.” Cullen smiled slightly, his eyes begging Dorian to understand it was his risk to take and that he was willing to do so. “In the very least, I should be able to help direct and control Lysette’s cleanse. There is no great risk that we can't fulfill that element of the plan.”

Dorian smiled, amused that Cullen’s calculated risks were becoming familiar. “I would never suggest that you hadn't fully considered every possibility, Commander.”

Now reassured, Dorian joined the male soldier and the party split up as planned and proceeded forward. Dorian leaned heavily on his escort, affecting a limp and keeping his head down and defeated. The mage glanced up at the soldier--William?--who had effected a believably mercenary expression. It was undoubtedly drawn from experience. 

As they stepped over the threshold, Dorian looked everywhere but at his father, unwilling to see the disgust and anger in his face. Two other mages had accompanied him this time; no one of his acquaintance and clearly Venatori. Odd that his father would include others in what was a deeply private and scandalous affair. Likely his father had plans to discredit or kill his assistants after Dorian had been dealt with. As Dorian had expected, numerous glyphs and protection spells decorated the walls and floor. What he didn't expect was the demon summoning preparations off to one side of the room. 

Halward began speaking to William, some complaint about tardiness, but Dorian could barely hear it over the blood pounding in his ears. Halward had modified the ritual to something very similar to what the Wardens had been using in the Western Approach to build their demon army and suddenly the single assassin sent to capture him made sense. The assassin was never meant to leave alive but was to be sacrificial fuel to bind Dorian to a demon’s will. As the elder Pavus reached out to shake William’s hand, Dorian shoved him bodily to the side. The other two mages immediately hit him with several spells of paralysis, but Lysette and Cullen released a powerful cleanse over the whole room, dispelling the majority of the magical preparations and the paralysis instantly. 

As Dorian leapt back up and made for the doorway to retrieve his staff from Cullen, one of the Venatori shouted “Templars!” in warning and both quickly retreated to the back of the room, lobbing projectile spells without bothering to take aim. One raised a wall of fire while the other slid into an alcove and out of view, the first following immediately thereafter. It seemed whatever deal Halward had arranged with the Inquisition’s enemies did not include combat support.  

Halward had not immediately noticed the retreat of his comrades, however, too focused on restraining Dorian and his fake captor to notice other events. Dorian had managed to get his staff while his father entrapped the sprawled William in a paralysis rune, but could get little more than a barrier up before hexes and electrical attacks came flying furiously his way. The elder Pavus was not known for his prowess with volatile elements, preferring to focus on the theoretical and ritualistic aspects of magical study. He had told Dorian many times that offensive magical schools were crude and to focus his energies on subjects that would present a true intellectual challenge. Another opinion abandoned when inconvenient, it seemed, as the spells lobbed at Dorian were powerful and practiced. He focused on defensively dispelling and avoiding the attacks, unable to pin down his father sufficiently to land any disabling effects.

With their enemies split, Dorian thought Cullen and Lysette might circle around to prevent the Venatori from flanking their group. An instant after this thought, though, Cullen was at his side, spells bouncing off his shield. The other man pushed forward through the magical onslaught as though it were a light breeze. His sword glowing faintly blue was the only indication of danger before a powerful smite hit Magister Pavus. Dorian’s father was knocked back several feet into a wall where he slumped, unconscious. 

“Dorian, get William freed. Lysette, watch the door. I don't want those Venatori doubling back on us.” Cullen barked as he strode forward to secure Halward with magic suppressing restraints. 

Dorian immediately complied with Cullen’s directives, desiring the distraction from the sadness and relief he was feeling. With William freed and Halward in chains, the small party quickly exited the guest wing of the palace. Lysette and William, along with several of Leliana’s agents met in the corridor, continued out of the palace to escort the new prisoner to Skyhold. After handing off their equipment, Cullen and Dorian headed back to the ballroom. 

Before they reached the entrance, Dorian abruptly stopped near an alcove, looking around briefly before slipping out of sight. Cullen had been quiet, likely absorbed in thoughts of the encounter with the Magister and reflecting on how to fill the holes on his deployments left by William and Lysette’s departure from the palace, so Dorian was unsurprised when the Commander strode forward a few more paces before noticing Dorian’s absence. The brief moment of panic Cullen experienced when he made the realization was visible even to Dorian in his distracted state before he was spotted leaned heavily against the back wall. 

“Are you well? Did you get injured?” Cullen asked softtly as he approached. 

“No, no, I'm fine. Please go ahead without me, I just need a moment to collect myself before facing those vipers again.” Dorian attempted to affect a casual tone but his voice was thin and strangled and his eyes glittered with unshed tears. 

“I can leave you be for the moment if you wish some privacy but I'll be just over there,” Cullen said, gesturing to a space a few feet away, within eye sight. “I… well, after the events of this evening I don't want you out of my sight. We don't know what else Halward may have planned.”

Dorian gave him a watery smile before dragging him closer to lean into his chest. He inhaled deeply, briefly considering whether he could currently tolerate the presence of another person and quickly finding that the idea of Cullen moving even a step away was what he found most intolerable. “No,” he said on a slow exhale, “please stay.”

With that invitation, Cullen brought his arms around the other man and the pair leaned into each other's support. It was some time before either man was seen in the ballroom again that evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was EXCITING. Personally, I would have liked more swordplay (ha!), but *shrug* magefights. Sorry if this capture was a little too easy. I contemplated various scenarios making this one of several more encounters or making it more difficult but decided that Dorian's dad probably isn't experienced in carrying out evil plans. My limited experience with self-absorbed abusers is that they don't do a lot of planning and they're too narcissistic to consider that they might not be the best at everything. Plus, I was having trouble 1) thinking of ways Halward would try to get to Dorian and 2) writing this action chapter. I wanted to get back to fluff. After all, this isn't a story about how Dorian's dad is an asshole. Well...it's a little bit that story.
> 
> We're mostly done with plot now. Time ti find fun ways to play with the characters now.


	14. Penance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm a little late with this, guys! I had the idea for this chapter on Wednesday and I didn't have the chance to finish it up until this morning on the bus.

Adaar had been avoiding her Commander and his favorite mage for weeks now. Initially she'd been pleased when Leliana had reported that the pair had been visibly affectionate around Skyhold, even though Dorian had ignored her explicit request to share all the details with her first. Beating the swift efficiency of Leliana’s agents was nearly impossible, after all. It soon became clear, though, that her decisions regarding the attendance of certain Orlesian events may have angered her friends more than she expected. 

Upon reflection, their reaction was understandable. She had placed their child at risk and severely disrupted her routine. The first evening the Inquisition party had made camp everyone within a league had known that Solona was unhappy with her accommodations. Adaar was still firmly convinced it was the best move for the Inquisition, doubly so now that Halward was in custody, but she was sorry that she'd caused her friends a lot of pain and anxiety. 

She knew as a leader that she would bear the brunt of anger and hurt feelings every time she made a decision. That was part of the job description. But she wanted to give them both some time and distance. After all, she didn't seek out yelling or confrontation willingly. 

Adaar was very pleased with the outcome at the Palace, though, and hoped their successes would mean a happy Rutherford-Pavus family. So she worked up her courage and stopped by their guest suite to check in as Inquisition soldiers began the process of packing up their envoy. The scene she found, though, was not very cheery. Dorian was tight lipped and grim when he greeted her at the entrance. 

“Our illustrious leader!” he'd remarked with little energy, “I'm afraid we're rather occupied at the moment. Perhaps another time?”

Before Dorian could finish his dismissal, a shrieking wail began from deeper within their quarters. 

“Dorian! I need you to distract her.” Cullen sounded exhausted and exasperated. Not a good combination, Adaar reflected. 

The Inquisitor followed Dorian as he rushed back through the suite and was greeted by the sight of her Commander elbow deep in a diaper change that more closely resembled a sparring match. Dorian had run over to Solona’s side and begun conjuring wisps and sparkling electrical designs in an attempt to gain her attention. The child was unimpressed with the display, though, and continued kicking her soiled bottom in every direction. 

“Here, let me try. She's always staring at my horns.”

Adaar moved further into Solona’s line of sight, hoping to catch her attention in spite of her impressive caterwauling. The ploy worked and Solona stopped wailing almost immediately, completely enraptured by the new person. Cullen quickly completed his task and handed Adaar the babe before she knew what was happening. 

“We haven't slept more than a few hours since the ball. You can take her. She was fed last at midday and might nap in an hour but it's unlikely.” he said bruskly, escorting Adaar back to the exit in a firm dismissal. The door shut behind her before she could formulate an objection. 

That was how Adaar found herself covered in a mash of some unknown Orlesian compote. The Iron Bull had found her seated at a patio table by the tavern with the tiny beast in her lap flinging foodstuffs in every direction. Solona was shrieking again, though it was possible that the sounds were now happy instead of upset. It was difficult to tell. Bull approached carefully, dodging projectiles as he entered the splash zone. 

“Having fun, boss?” he ventured, jovially. 

Adaar attempted a smile that was closer to a grimace. “This is my penance for insisting that both Cullen and Dorian attend the ball. I don't know where their beautiful baby went but we could use this she-beast in the field.”

“Yeah. These tykes don't do well with a lot of change. She probably won't improve until we make it back to Skyhold and she's in a familiar place. I mean, if you think about it, it makes sense. I can't relax in strange places and I at least know why I'm there.” Bull watched as Adaar tried to offer Solona the bottle of milk only to have it batted aside. “Here, let me give it a whirl while you wash off. She and I understand each other.”

Adaar relinquished the child gladly and rose to grab a towel from the barkeeper. After a thorough scrub she returned to her table to find Solona trying to grapple up to Bull’s horns. 

“She can't even crawl, what does she think she's about?” Adaar didn't sit with Solona in such a precarious position, instead hovering nervously just next to the Bull’s seat. 

“She's fine boss, don't worry. I've got her.” Bull claimed as Solona leaned out to try and grab another handhold. 

“She wants to get higher, to see more. She doesn’t know this place. She doesn’t like it.” Adaar jumped as Cole appeared at her side, clearly speaking on Solona’s behalf. Her heart broke at Cole’s mournful tone. Solona was scared and it was because of her decision.

Adaar sighed quietly and stroked Solona’s wispy, dark curls. “I’m sorry, my little nugget. I did not consider what this might be like for you.”

Cole cocked his head to one side, confusion spreading across his face. “It’s hard to hear her. Her hurts are loud and her voice is tiny. She doesn’t make sense.”

Bull raised a brow. Adaar sniggered a bit.

Cole frowned further, shifting from foot to foot restlessly. “What?” he asked plaintively.

“Have you looked in a mirror recently, buddy?” Bull asked.

“No one was there.” Cole replied, a little vacantly.

Adaar frowned a bit, perplexed, but still amused. “You've just proven his point, Cole.” Solona leaned back in Adaar’s direction, twisting herself to see everyone at once. Adaar grabbed her before she toppled backwards and offered her the bottle again. 

“Whoa, boss, not like that.” Bull leaned forward quickly to ouch the bottle back, away from Solona. The baby saw what she was missing out on and began to whine persistently. “You can't cram it in her mouth you gotta let her decide on her own to take it. See, she wants it, just not on your schedule. Just rub it along her bottom lip a little. She'll open up on her own if she is hungry.”

Adaar tried to follow the Bull’s apparently experienced instruction, surprised at his knowledge. “I suppose when you're raised in large groups you learn a lot about children.”

“It was very loud.” Cole added helpfully. 

Bull snorted in amusement. “I did and it was. It wasn't a bad childhood.”

With Bull and Cole for backup, Adaar was able to calm Solona enough to eat some more food and relax in her arms. It seemed she was almost completely asleep when Cassandra appeared from around the corner. 

She snorted a bit at the sight. “I didn't believe Leliana when she directed me here to retrieve Solona.”

“Yes, come join the crowd of commentators. It's a new game: mock the Inquisitor for her incompetence with babies.”

Bull shook his head. “You're doing good, boss. You've almost got her down.”

“She's sleeping?” Cassandra asked urgently, voice suddenly a whisper. “I'll wait til she wakes then. The child has been impossible without her naps. Yet she won't nap.”

The group sat in near silence for nearly two hours while Adaar’s arms grew numb with the small weight of the child. Adaar still stood by her decision to bring the family but she quietly discussed the matter with Bull and Cassandra. Everyone agreed she owed them an apology. And more babysitting duty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not pictured - Dorian and Cullen sleeping like the dead, drooling everywhere.
> 
> This chapter may not be quite as edited as usual. Normally I'm posting things several weeks after I've written them and I've had a chance to re-read a few times. This is a little shorter, so it should be fine. Maybe I'll come back and add/edit at a later time. 
> 
> Can you believe I write most of this on my phone?! I still think it's cray. It's gotten to where I think I write better on my phone. I find it easier to focus and I'm not intimidated by a bunch of white space. If only I'd had a smart phone earlier in life...


	15. Teething

The journey back to Skyhold was a mixed affair. Cullen was filled with satisfaction from their victory over Corypheus’ forces in the Winter Palace, the stability and alliance they'd achieved in Orlais, the visible success of the Inquisition, and the successful capture of Dorian’s father. There was a lot to celebrate. 

Unfortunately, Cullen was too occupied to do so because neither Dorian nor Solona were interested in participating in the high spirits of the camp. Dorian was consumed with a strange melancholy now that his father no longer posed him any threat. He still smiled, flirted, and doted on their child, but he did so without much enthusiasm. The other man had also taken to staring into the distance for minutes at a time. It was difficult for Cullen to watch Dorian reconcile his anger and betrayal with the love and respect he had clearly once held for his father. Though the man was no longer deserving of the title, it did not negate the fact that he once had, and only time would help Dorian sort through it all. Cullen wanted to help but couldn't offer much more than silent support as they rode together. 

Solona, meanwhile, had become a tiny terrorist driving Cullen to his wit’s end. As soon as the Inquisition departed the relative comfort of their temporary accommodations in Halamshiral, she began demanding feedings every one or two hours. When she wasn't demanding sustenance, she was drooling and gnawing on everything. She deposited trails of drool everywhere, as though she were a giant slug, thick, mucusy strings that never seemed to fully wash away. Cullen thought he could just make out a sliver of white peeking through her gums. With any luck, the hint of tooth would break through any moment now and relieve Solona of at least some of her discomfort. 

Cullen approached the tent he shared with his distraught family with some trepidation that evening. He was so exhausted from worry, sleep deprivation, and the day's duties that he was certain he would cry along with Solona were she to spend another evening inconsolable. As he entered the tent, though, he was greeted by happy giggles and spluttering noises that he soon identified as Dorian and Solona playing. Dorian was giving the child a bath in a small wash basin. As he poured water through her hair she would spit and laugh as the water ran in her face. 

“It's a relief to finally see a smile. I'd nearly forgotten what they looked like,” Cullen commented, as he came closer to better observe the proceedings. 

“Are you referring to myself or this little nuglet?” Dorian asked, splashing more water into his daughter's face playfully. 

“Either. Both. Am I required to choose?” Cullen asked, holding out a towel to receive the squirming babe. 

“I must admit, I haven't been the most engaging companion of late. I apologize for my distraction, my dears.” Dorian directed his apology to both Solona and Cullen as he passed the little girl into the towel. 

“Dorian, no apology is needed. You've faced much over the past few weeks. Months, even, counting Redcliffe. I'm just pleased to see you in better spirits.” Cullen quickly dried the child and threw on a new diaper before she could soil his coat. Grabbing her evening bottle he seated himself and popped the bottle in her mouth in a practiced motion. Solona reached out to grab it. She wasn't quite able to support it on her own but she was very determined to try, even if it meant that the bottle was thrown in the floor and milk spilled everywhere. Dorian stood by, quietly watching the scene for a moment. 

“It's hard to feel too much self-pity when caring for her.” Dorian commented, breaking the silence. “She always has it worse. ‘Your father tried to bargain with a demon to change you? Well at least you can feed yourself. And you have teeth!’ Speaking of, I think she's finally cut a bottom one. Hopefully that will mean some more peace tonight.”

“Thank the Maker. It  _ is _ a good day.” Cullen sent a quick prayer for a peaceful evening. Bottle finished, he put Solona down in her bedding. Though it wasn't long past dinner, Cullen and Dorian began their own bedtime preparations and were quickly slipping into neighboring bed rolls for the night. Cullen sighed, settling in but Dorian remained eerily quiet for some moments, as though debating whether he wanted to speak. 

Finally he flipped to face Cullen, smiling in the twilight. “I made Solona laugh this afternoon. A full belly laugh, not just one of her short little ‘ha’s’. I think perhaps I missed my calling as a jester or bard.” Dorian’s quiet tone was full of pride and Cullen couldn't help but smile along with him. 

“Your clothing is certainly bright enough to take on such a role. Perhaps you have the right of it.” Cullen teased, grinning further. 

Dorian gasped softly in feigned offense. “Commander, I can understand that anything other than brown is considered daring where you're from but simply selecting colors that complement one's complexion is rudimentary fashion in the North. Of the two of us, your wardrobe is more suited to Tevinter entertainment.” Dorian poked Cullen firmly in the chest to emphasize his point as Cullen chuckled, unoffended. “Barbarian,” Dorian groused happily. 

“Proudly,” Cullen acknowledged, pushing the prodding hand aside to wrap Dorian in his embrace. The Commander inhaled deeply to catch the pleasant cocktail of Dorian, the dusty road, and Solona’s drool, placing small kisses along the other man’s neck. Dorian smiled into Cullen’s neck, but pulled back slightly. 

“You interrupted me. I was trying to tell you of my revelation today,” Dorian complained. 

“My apologies, I thought your tale complete.” Cullen replied, running his hand up and down Dorian’s arm soothingly. 

“Mm, perhaps a bard’s life isn't for me.” Dorian paused, taking a deep breath. “Solona’s laughter today made me realize a lot about my relationship with my father. I don't think he ever truly loved me, at least not as a father should. Not as I love Solona. He didn't ever see me as a person. And that's not my fault. That's how he sees everyone, pawns in the game of life. He wanted me to do well, succeed in life, but only because we're related. What I do affects him.”

Dorian flung out the arm Cullen was stroking in a wild gesticulation of anger. “It's so selfish to treat a child in this way. Dehumanizing. And he doesn't even realize what his attitude has done to me, how it's affected my life. For  _ years _ I sought to win his approval, to be the son he wanted. Of course, I couldn't meet his standards, they aren't attainable by anyone. He never set his expectations with human fallibility in mind. I'm a Pavus, I am above such mundane restrictions. I blamed myself for not being able to go further, be better, repress myself and my desires. I shouldn't have, though. It wasn't me, it was him … as tired as that line is. It wasn't my fault.”

Cullen had resumed stroking Dorian’s arm, finding that he needed to give the comfort at least as much as Dorian likely needed to receive it. His partner’s ruminations were sobering, to say the least, but Cullen was relieved to hear that Dorian was beginning to accept the actions of his father. He spoke, softly but firmly, to ensure Dorian knew he approved of the self-assessment. “It was never your fault, Dorian. As much as you joke, it isn't possible to be perfect. To think your father's love was conditional on meeting some expectations or requirements he set forth… well, he's no father at all to hold such a thing over you. You've achieved so much, don't let your father, or anyone, make you feel like you aren't worthy of love.”

Dorian didn't respond for a beat and Cullen couldn't see his expression in the darkness. Finally, he heard an indrawn breath. “I…  needed to hear that. Thank you.”

Cullen smiled slightly, “Of course. Anything you need.”

Dorian smiled at the offer, the white of his teeth catching the light. “You will come to regret such a generous offer, amatus. I can think of several things I need right now and I plan to take full advantage of you.”

Dorian slid closer to Cullen until their bodies were pressed flush against each other. Cullen could feel his body heating up at the touch, his face, no doubt, giving off a glowing blush. But he'd been reminded of something he'd heard a few weeks ago and wasn't ready to drop the conversation without an answer. 

“What does ‘amatus’ mean? You used that word before.” 

At Cullen’s question, Dorian drew back quickly, looking a little surprised. “Is that something I said?” 

“Yes ...” Cullen reminded him with a perplexed look, curiosity piqued by Dorian’s prevarication. 

Dorian didn't actually withdraw from Cullen but his relaxed expression tightened as his eyes slid away to look into the night. “Ah. Yes. Well, it is Tevene, so I'm not surprised you don't recognize the term. It isn't used very often, even in my homeland. Not a popular sentiment, you understand.”

“I don't understand, actually, Dorian. You’re babbling.”

“Am I? Ridiculous. I never babble.” The rebuttal was distracted and unconvincing; from force of habit, not any need to hide. He took a breath as if to continue, but stopped midway through, glancing back to examine Cullen’s face. “It means ‘beloved.’” Dorian held Cullen’s gaze for a brief moment more before he broke eye contact again as he continued on. “Not precisely, but that is how the word is used. The literal translation is almost incomprehensible in Trade, something like ‘to be loved by me’ which is quite a mouthful.”

Cullen drew Dorian back to him in a tight hug while the other man continued to talk. He'd never felt such a warm, consuming, contentment in his entire life. Dorian loved him. Him! A former Templar that had once dedicated his life to putting people like Dorian in a cage. A farm boy from Fereldan that had only the basic education the Chantry could provide. A lyrium addict that might lose his health and sanity all too soon. He didn't feel worthy of such a brilliant, beautiful man, but he vowed to himself that he would do his best to be the man Dorian deserved. 

He must have vowed this to Dorian as well. “You are already much more than I deserve, my dear man.” he responded in a whisper. 

Cullen shook his head in denial, but didn't want to spoil this moment with a debate over which of them was more flawed. “There is so much in my life that I'm not proud of, that I wish I could go back and do differently. I feel as though I can move past everything I've done, be a better man now, with you and Solona to help.” Cullen held Dorian’s gaze for a moment so the other man could see his sincerity before kissing him. 

After a few moments, Dorian came up for air. “As inspiring as I clearly am, I was hoping to inspire other, baser feelings in you this evening.” he commented, moving one thigh between Cullen’s legs. 

Cullen stroked a hand through Dorian’s hair, humming happily in agreement. “You have for quite some time now, Dorian. I love you.”

Dorian jerked a bit, clearly not expecting the sentiment, though Cullen wasn't sure how it could be a surprise. The expression had felt quite natural to him, in the moment. Dorian’s face became mottled with spots of color as he moved through a number of feelings simultaneously. “The things you say.” he finally managed, with a modicum of decorum. “No more talking this evening, though, yes? We have better things to do with our mouths.”

In response Cullen leaned forward to take Dorian’s mouth into a deep kiss, his tongue moving in as his hand wrapped around both of their pricks. Dorian released a pleased groan, tilting his pelvis to assist Cullen with his slow, soft strokes. Small thrusts followed as the pace increased, both men panting quietly in the darkness. Before long, Dorian was reaching for a towel to wipe away the their spend before it dried, dropping kisses as he cleansed each new area of the Commander. 

As he reached Cullen’s face, Dorian nuzzled into his neck while laughing softly to himself. “I never thought I'd ever have such difficulty getting a man to make love to me. It must be one of those southern peculiarities, like marrying for love or sharing your home with a dog.”

Cullen, relaxed and half asleep from the attention, barely managed a groan in response to the insult and soon both men were curled around each other in slumber. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ewww, feelings. Y'all are going to need cootie shots after this. 
> 
> Also, it's so annoying that by the time I've gotten Solona aged up to about where my own daughter is, my daughter is well past all of this six month bullshit.


	16. Homecoming

Every member of the Inquisition’s delegation to Halamshiral was ecstatic to see the walls of Skyhold rising up in the distance. It had been a long and difficult journey. A cheer went up through the ranks as the first of their group began to cross the bridge into the keep and the celebratory energy built into something that would likely continue long into the night. 

“Not joining the festivities?” called Lysette as Dorian passed by on his way back to his rooms. 

“The work of a parent is never done,” Dorian replied, waving cheerily as he continued on. Solona rested heavily on his shoulder, snoring softly. He would never have admitted that he too was exhausted, too much so to participate in the revelry, but thankfully he didn't have to with Solona. He was did appreciate the invitation; a positive reception from Inquisition members outside Adaar’s companions was still rare for Dorian. Perhaps he was finally transcending his scary Vint image. 

Solona stirred as he opened the door to their suite, perking up as she realized that these surroundings were very familiar. Her hands fluttered around her body, waving in uncoordinated excitement while she began babbling single syllable sounds. Cullen and Dorian had both been overjoyed to hear her say “da” a few days earlier but it was becoming clear that the sound had no meaning to her yet. 

Dorian put Solona down on the floor with her toys as he stored the packs and made preparations to put her to bed. Solona occupied herself by gnawing at her wooden rings like an aquatic rodent. The majority of her teething pain may have subsided for now, but she was clearly still suffering from its effects. Or perhaps she was just excited to try her new sliver of tooth on anything and everything. 

Dorian heard Cullen enter, hopefully with the dinner he'd been tasked with acquiring, and he abandoned his task in favor of getting sustenance. He couldn't be expected to continue, exhausted, filthy, and starving as he was. He returned to the living area to find Cullen enthusiastically encouraging Solona forward. She had pushed herself up on her arms and seemed to be considering a tasty looking toy a few feet away. To everyone's dismay, she lowered herself to stretch her arm towards the toy. When that didn't work, she simply rolled over and was immediately distracted by another toy closer to hand. 

“That was rather anticlimactic,” Dorian complained. “Though I suppose it would be odd for her to progress immediately to crawling just after learning to roll about. What  _ is _ the usual progression of these things?”

Cullen moved to begin setting out the spread of delicacies he'd acquired. “My mother always told me each child was unique. But I haven't seen Solona get up on her hands and knees yet, so I don't think she's as close to crawling as she seems.”

“Hmph.” Dorian complained, moving with a dignified flounce into a seat at their small table. “Solona,” he said, addressing the child in a haughty tone, “I need you to become more self reliant. You can't expect your fathers to tote you around your whole life.”

Cullen watched the scene with a bland smile. He was becoming quite familiar with Dorian’s odd brand of humor. He offered the other man a plate as he finally turned back to the table. “I think you will miss being able to carry around Solona once she's running about on her own.”

“Perish the thought, amatus!” Dorian affected a scandalized expression briefly before refocusing on the mountain of food before him. “You are undermining my efforts,” he continued in a more normal tone. “I must convince myself as well as Solona that her continuing growth is for the best. That way I won't be too disappointed when she is too big to sleep on my shoulder and walking on her own feet.”

Cullen smiled a little sadly. “You'll let me know if that works, I hope. I'm already becoming nostalgic for the days when all she did was eat and sleep, even though we had no opportunity to do either ourselves.”

Dorian made a small sound of agreement, not able to engage further without interrupting the flow of food from his plate to his mouth. Cullen watched for a moment before remarking, “I was sure that we had eaten on the road between here and the Winter Palace. Were you unable to partake?”

Dorian only spared a moment to give Cullen a dark glare. Finally he paused, unwilling to let a disparagement stand without a response. “I would understand if you haven't noticed this, as your appetite has clearly not recovered from the lyrium, but camp food is rather… rustic.” Dorian said the word rustic as though it were a curse. “It is especially difficult to stomach after enjoying the delights of Orlesian cuisine.”

Cullen’s nose wrinkled at the memory of the food at the Winter Palace. It was all canapés and petit fours, nothing substantial. Worse, everything was drenched in cream or cheese that sat very poorly with Cullen. “I'll take camp food over Orlesian, thank you.” was all he said in response. 

Dorian looked truly scandalized now, staring at Cullen as though he'd grown a second head. “I knew you were a barbarian, my dear, but I’d no idea the extent of your savagery. Do you hate all delightful luxuries or is it just restricted to food? What is your opinion of a large hot bath with scented oils? Silken, densely woven sheets? Well aged wine?”

When Cullen didn't immediately produce an answer--he only frowned at Dorian in annoyance--the mage turned to Solona for assistance. “My darling daughter would never turn her nose up at a savory Hollandaise, would she?” he asked rhetorically as Solona slammed a stuffed druffalo repeatedly on the floor. “I distinctly recall feeding her many purees enhanced with Orlesian sauces during our trip. We can hope that she isn't entirely barbarian.”

“Dorian, all this talk of Orlesian food is making me nauseous. Please find some other avenue for your teasing.” Cullen complained, pushing his plate away to avoid the delicious smells that were no longer welcome. 

Dorian noticed the action and the sincerity it implied. Frowning in thought he was silent for so long that Cullen contemplated whether he might need to apologize. Perhaps something he'd said had caused offense...

“I was joking about the lyrium, but perhaps I wasn't so far off,” Dorian said finally. “Dagna and I haven't done any experimentation with food but that now seems like a gross oversight. Would she still be down in the Undercroft or up here enjoying the festivities you think?”

“Dorian, you needn't pursue this immediately. It's not as though you'll forget and I've been living without Orlesian food quite happily.” Cullen’s protests seemed to fall on deaf ears but Dorian didn't move to leave either. He merely continued to stare intently at a point just behind Cullen as he worked through the brain wave he was clearly experiencing.

“Hmm? Ah, yes, you are quite right.” Dorian replied absently, refocusing on Cullen. “You know, I never asked you about that Silence back at the palace. Was it as strong as those you've performed in the past? Did you feel differently afterwards than you might have in the past? Could you describe it from beginning to end?”

Cullen almost laughed at the ridiculous bombardment of questions. “Can we not simply agree that I have barbaric tastes and leave the issue? This may sound strange from me, but we've had a long journey and deserve some respite. Research of lyrium can wait til morning.”

Dorian made a moue of disappointment at the interruption to his line of inquiry before returning to his food. “Yes, I suppose you're right. What is most vexing, though, is that no one will believe me when I complain about this later.”

“I do apologize for the inconvenience,” Cullen replied with a smirk. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written the last chapter! I think. Probably. I may go back and add some more, but it'll probably be in between other chapters, instead of at the end. I'm so excited that I finished something for once! 
> 
> I've been wondering if Tevene has feminine and masculine forms of nouns like 'amatus.' Most romantic languages are big on that sort of thing. Conveniently, it would allow me to distinguish between when Dorian is referring to Cullen or Solona. It hasn't been an issue yet, though. It probably won't come up. I'll just file that under :\'My Brain'\'Unresolved Hypotheticals'\'Fictional Languages'


	17. Afternoon

Dorian had been more productive in his past few days back in his library than in his entire time with the Inquisition. His inspiration the evening of the Inquisitor’s triumphant return to Skyhold had uncovered several new promising paths for further investigation. He and Dagna had holed up in the Undercroft for nearly a day and a half bickering furiously over correlation versus causation, trading notes and ideas, and playing around irresponsibly with the plentiful resources the Inquisitor had generously provided. Dorian was growing more optimistic that he could indeed fabricate a long-term treatment for his--no,  _ all _ former Templars.  

It had been an intellectually invigorating few days for Dorian. Even more significantly, it helped Dorian ignore the fact that his father was only steps away from him, locked in a cell. No one mentioned that particular druffalo in the room, thankfully. At least not within Dorian’s hearing. He felt ensconced in an ivory tower of safely benign gossip. It was a striking enough contrast to how such a scandal would have been received in Minrathous that Dorian found himself reflecting more and more on the state of his homeland. When he'd been in Tevinter he'd never been compelled to change the rather appalling status quo. Now, though, he felt perhaps that he should have done more. 

When Dorian found his thoughts turning morose and counterproductive, he removed himself from the situation. So it was that Dorian found himself departing from his alcove in the library by mid-morning. He was soon crossing the bridge to Cullen’s tower before he even realized what he was doing. The Commander had taken Solona for the morning, as he only planned to be in his office. Dorian took a brief second to marvel that his little family was a source of comfort for him, not a strain, before waltzing into the office without knocking. 

Solona pushed herself up to her hands and knees at his entrance, to get a good look at what was happening. When she saw him she squealed happily, pounding the ground in excitement. Dorian obligingly plucked her from her mat of toys and held her aloft, making whooshing noises to enhance the effect. “Good morning, my sweet. Revising all of your father's reports? More drool! Tear this into pieces! That kind of thing?” Solona squealed, happy to be a participant in the conversation. 

“We've been sifting through the mountains of correspondence that were waiting for us upon our return.” Cullen sighed despondently. “I don't think I will ever get through all of this. I know I promised to take the afternoon meal with you but I don't see how I can finish without spending the next week chained to this desk.”

“Surely your Captains kept this in some sort of order while you were gone?” Dorian remarked with surprise. “You don't have to attend to every item personally. Is much of this not the responsibility of someone much lower down in the pecking order?”

“It is but there is simply too much. I must devote my full attention to all reports, not just the ones that seem important. It is not as though our enemy will politely inform us of his strategy.” Cullen snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration. 

“I would hardly suggest otherwise.” Dorian frowned, suddenly feeling as though he shouldn't have come at all. He was just going to start spouting regrettable nonsense if he stayed much longer. “Perhaps I'll take this monkey over to the stables. She always seems fascinated with the menagerie the Inquisitor has collected,” Dorian mused aloud. Giving the Commander a pointed look, he continued, “That will give you some time to yourself to give matters your  _ fullest _ attentions.”

Cullen glared at Dorian, frustration clearly growing instead of diminishing. “That might be best. I won't be able to keep her entertained.”

Dorian nodded shortly in response, sweeping from the room with a huff and the child over his shoulder. By the time he was halfway to the stables his spirits had lifted to the point that he was no longer glaring. Solona had helped this process substantially by trying to eat his nose. The mage chose to take this as an attempt at giving affection and not a foray into cannibalism. Solona continued to be incredibly endearing as they neared their destination, craning her body outward as much as possible to catch a glimpse of the animals she knew were just inside. Dorian smiled as she squealed in delight when the Dracolisk poked his (or her? Who could tell.) head above the paddock. 

Dorian and Solona lingered in the stables for nearly a half hour examining the beasts. She tried to pat and grab all of them, even the toothier ones, making Dorian wonder whether humans were born with any instinct for survival at all. Blackwall wandered over for a few minutes, ostensibly to show Solona the new toy he was carving but mostly to grab a quick cuddle with her. Dorian was happy to be relieved of his burden, even if it meant suffering the company of the oaf. There is only so much time one can spend happily holding a two stone weight while looking at horseflesh. 

As always, Dorian was surprised at how good Blackwall was with Solona, patiently allowing her to pull his beard and carefully explaining everything around her without condescension. He never used a ridiculously high pitched baby voice either, which put him leagues above other babysitters. It was nearly sufficient for Dorian to consider forgiving many of the untoward statements the man had made in the past regarding Dorian character. So long as they remained on topics of childbearing, they were even capable of civil discourse. 

Dorian’s mood was so much improved by the time they departed that he found himself gathering a plate from the luncheon offerings to take back to the grumpy Commander. Dorian had, after all, begun to regret his statements to the other man. Cullen was clearly stressed and didn't deserve someone ignorant of military matters criticizing his methods. After passing Solona off to Krem, for nap time at the tavern, Dorian made a second attempt at imposing on the Commander. 

He found the man right as he had left him, body hunched over his desk and hands carding his hair, likely in a desperate bid to ease a headache. When Dorian entered, conciliatory offer in hand, the Commander looked up with a glare only to quickly replace it with a sheepish smile. There may have been a small amount of surprise there as well, but Dorian thought that a fair reaction. 

“Since you were unable to come to lunch, it has come to you. I explained that you were determined to fast for the day but the meal simply wouldn't have it. So here we are.” Dorian announced, distancing himself from the good deed he'd done. 

“Dorian! I must apologize for my behavior earlier. I was sullen and churlish.” Looking down at the plate Dorian had set on his desk, shame washed over Cullen’s face. “You didn't have to go to this trouble, I hardly deserve anything after the way I behaved.”

“As I said, I argued against the whole thing.” Dorian deflected, waving a hand in dismissal. “Though you may consider it my own apology, if you like. I didn't mean to add to your frustrations this morning. I've been feeling a bit churlish myself.” 

“It’s a natural reaction to your father's impending judgment,” Cullen remarked with a sympathetic glance. Dorian was surprised for a moment before realizing that Cullen was more perceptive than he gave him credit for. 

The mage sighed, shaking his head. “Yes, though I've taken a page from your book and have tried to keep busy. My father is no longer at large, so it seems even more unreasonable that I be so fixated on his foolishness.”

“As I said, it's a natural response.” Cullen noted, coming around his desk and putting a comforting hand on Dorian’s shoulder. “When the Inquisitor returns from the Hinterlands we can put the whole thing to bed. Hopefully she will not be gone long.” Cullen patted Dorian’s arm before perusing the provided food with mild interest. “Am I right in assuming you will continue to distract me until I eat what you've brought me?”

“Indeed you are. You may delight me with tales from your riveting correspondences while I enjoy the image of you filling that lovely mouth of yours,” Dorian smirked, leaning into Cullen’s space with the innuendo. 

Cullen cleared his throat, backing away to reseat himself at his desk. “Unfortunately we have no time for something like that.” he grumbled, digging into the food in front of him. 

Dorian chuckled, perching on a corner of the desk. It allowed him an excellent view of the numerous stacks of reports that were currently causing so much grief. Many were in the same dry format, describing uninteresting but necessary information, such as the weather in the Wastes (hot, dry) or the number of caravans that had come through Crestwood (30, one more than the previous week). It was enough to put Dorian to sleep if he kept at it. No wonder Cullen was in such a foul mood. 

One item, though, appeared to be in a different format. It was also isolated from the other stacks and placed out of the way, near where Dorian had settled himself. It looked like a personal correspondence and despite himself, Dorian soon found that he was skimming its contents. A few moments later he was wishing he hadn't pried and struggling to decide whether he should pry even further. 

Restraint had never been a habit to which Dorian was particularly inclined. “Amatus, why in Andraste’s name had you only recently informed your sister that you continue to draw breath?”

Cullen sighed heavily, shaking his head though he did not look away from his current report. “Not you too. I already apologized, I can do no more to remedy what has already been done. Or not done, I suppose. After Haven, everything was so unstable that the fact of my survival seemed rather trivial if we died of exposure or were attacked before the keep walls were repaired. I think the fact that personal correspondence slipped my mind is understandable.”

“Of course, my dear but I would note that it has been  _ months _ since we secured Skyhold. This response here is dated…” Dorian skimmed through the letter again more thoroughly, “... a week ago. What's this about a visit? Or did that slip your mind as well?” Dorian’s tone sharpened significantly, good humor remaining but with an edge of panic. 

“I believe you did mention wishing to meet my sister,” Cullen began hesitantly, finally looking away from his report to assess this new situation. 

“Of course! In some distant hypothetical which never comes to pass. Have you even informed your sister of your progeny? Our… ah…situation? I've just dealt with my own murderous family, I'd like to avoid any future familial violence.” Dorian could no longer sit still and hopped up to start pacing the office in agitation. “Kaffas, there is so much to do. We have, what, a week at most before they arrive?”

Cullen stared, dumbfounded at Dorian’s reaction. “Mia and her family should arrive in four days. I've just asked Josie to have guest quarters prepared, there are no other arrangements to be made.”

“For you, perhaps. They already like you. I don't have an excellent record with families, as you might have noticed.” 

Cullen rose and grabbed the other man’s shoulders to still his restless pacing. “If anyone is to worry, it should be me. I informed Mia, briefly, of Solona’s existence and our relationship. It is the reason for her visit. She didn’t say so in her letter but I’m certain she’s livid with me. It is typical for me to fail to keep her updated on my health but to start a family without even hinting that I might be involved with someone? I feel confident she plans to visit some horrible humiliation upon me.”

“You only expect anger at the lack of information? Not a blood magic baby? Or a male lover? Or the fact I'm from Tevinter and a mage?” At Cullen confirming nod, Dorian backed away to lean back on the desk, knocking a few reports off in his distraction. “I know, intellectually, that you are being truthful but I am having difficulty believing such accepting attitudes exist.” Dorian shook his head a bit, to dispel the thoughts of his father's likely reaction. “But, if you do expect your pride is in danger from your sibling then that is also something to prepare for. We'll need ammunition. Or a way to diffuse her anger.”

Cullen reflected quietly for a moment before responding. “There was that one time I caught her in the barn with our neighbor’s son. She told me that they'd been checking on the horses, but they were covered in hay. I never told our parents, but…”

“You could now,” Dorian filled in, with a grin. “Or her family. Perhaps just all of Skyhold.”

Cullen nodded thoughtfully, his expression growing mischievous. “Maybe you're right, love. Some strategizing may be in order.”

Dorian felt his face heat at the endearment, still barely capable of believing that the honorable Commander held deeper, committed feelings for him. “We can plan further this evening. You can tell me all about your sister and we'll see if there's anything useful.” Dorian rose and pecked the Commander on the cheek as he made for the door. “Don't be late,” he said, smiling at the pink now decorating Cullen’s cheeks as well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed that I'm basically making Dorian into a mad scientist, so I've been toying around with that idea as another story possibility. I watched Young Frankenstein this weekend to say goodbye to Gene Wilder and I might need to do a mashup with that. I mean, Dorian is a necromancer, he basically already is Dr. Frankenstein.


	18. Mia

“... Cullen got so mad that he ran straight across the pen, instead of around. He only made it three steps before he slipped and fell in the mud.” The gathering in the tavern burst into laughter at the punchline to the story while Cullen glared without malice at his sister. 

“I find it interesting that in your version of the story you've omitted that you were planning to break my toy sword,” he complained, raising an eyebrow. 

Mia had arrived a few days earlier, husband and four children in tow. The playful bickering between her and her brother had resumed immediately as though they'd not spent the past decade apart. It would have quickly become grating had the sibling dynamic not been fascinating to Dorian. He'd never known anyone with a mess of brothers and sisters, much less seen them interact. Regardless of topic, Mia could find a way to taunt or poke fun at her brother, yet somehow keep it from seeming cruel. It was like a warm, cuddly version of the Orleasian game. 

“It ruins the pacing of the story, brother. Don't be such a spoilsport.” Mia teased, with a matching raised brow. Dorian was flabbergasted; even their mannerisms were similar. Did this happen with all siblings? 

“Far be it from me to suggest you restrict yourself to events that actually occurred.” meeting his sister's derision with an equal helping of his own. 

“It is my sisterly duty to share embarrassing moments from your childhood with your friends. A little exaggeration is expected. After all these years you are still incapable of relaxing.” Mia rolled her eyes before slinging an arm over Dorian’s shoulder to physically and metaphorically drag him into the disagreement. “Dorian, how do you put up with this?” she asked, gesturing to Cullen with a dismissive wave. 

“Ah, a classic question. I find it helps to focus on his pretty face when the stuffy prattle starts coming out of his mouth.” Dorian answered with a wink. Mia giggled and patted him with the hand over his shoulder affectionately. 

Dorian had been immensely relieved when, after their first evening together, Mia had embraced him before returning to her room, murmuring in his ear that she thought him a “good one.” What kind of good one he might be was unclear to him and he was a little afraid to ask. With some of the stress at meeting Cullen’s family alleviated, Dorian found that he enjoyed Mia’s company a great deal. Mia was very friendly and outgoing, unlike Cullen, and Dorian was pleased to find that they shared several interests outside the Commander. Dorian was beginning to believe that he would be able to build a positive familial relationship. 

“Momma!” a chorus of tiny voices cried as a small herd of children burst into the tavern from outside. “It's raining cookies outside! Come look!” 

One of the older children, a girl with strawberry blonde hair that Mia may have called Ana, grabbed her mother's arm to lead her outside. “It's all kinds of cookies,” she added, as one of her brothers danced in a circle around them while Mia stood. “And they're all horrible.”

Dorian could not believe the level of energy exhibited by Mia’s troupe of children. Since the moment of their arrival, their small guests had been in constant motion. They were simply incapable of remaining stationary, always fidgeting, spinning, skipping, jumping--just thinking about it made him tired. Prior to this visit Dorian would have laughed at such a description of children, presuming it exaggerated. He was now becoming increasingly afraid for his future self and how that man would cope with a tiny whirlwind of his own. Solona found them all to be a source of wonder and stared at them constantly with a huge grin. She clearly understood that they were more similar to her than the adults she typically encountered. Dorian was certain she was filing away her cousins’ reckless antics to employ herself once she'd mastered the necessary skills, like walking. 

Collectively, the children had decided that Dorian was a Very Interesting Person and, since their arrival, had spent a good portion of each day following him through the castle, peppering him with questions about Tevinter, magic, books, and the Inquisitor. Dorian had made the mistake on their first day of showing off a small bit of magic, conjuring a small wisp of flame and shaping it into various forms chosen by the children. He had only wanted to calm any fears they might have held regarding mages. Now he had a travel-sized posse with him wherever he went. The group generally prevented him from accomplishing any productive tasks and he was only able to shoo them off when he had Solona. His child received infinitely more respect than he did. 

“It might behoove you to check upstairs,” Dorian commented, rising as well with a sigh. This had been his first adult conversation all day, but that was clearly over. “I have a suspicion of the cause of this bizarre weather phenomenon.”

Dorian led the family up to a sunny room on the second floor of the ramshackle tavern. The room was empty but the soft sound of falling confectionery and giggling could be heard from one of the open windows. 

“Sera,” Dorian called, trying for a sarcastically cheerful tone. It only made it as far as long suffering before giving up. 

Luckily for Dorian, Sera was eager to reveal her clever prank to her young audience. She uncloaked herself right in the open window and swung herself from the frame back into the room, sprinkling cookie crumbs as she landed. 

“That was a good prank, yeah?” she asked, grinning, “You lot were running about like a swarm of bees was after you. I save those for the baddies, not going to waste them.”

“Yes, let's keep the pranks to the non-lethal variety.” Dorian replied, mistrustfully. He'd had too much experience with the erratic elf to expect her to exercise sound judgment around children. 

Of course, this quality only made her more appealing to Mia’s herd. The older blonde child perked up immediately at the mention of bees, talking over Dorian in her eagerness to inquire how exactly Sera  _ saved _ bees. Once it was explained that she stored them in jars that were later pelted down on Inquisition enemies, all the children were fully engaged in the topic. 

“We're fortunate that Solona isn't talking yet,” whispered Cullen, sidling up to Dorian’s side as the other man made a furtive escape from Sera’s room. Solona was slung over his shoulder, though she squirmed viciously in an effort to get down on the ground. Solona had finally begun crawling around and was no longer interested in mundane activities like cuddling with her parents, much to everyone's dismay. She was already rather skillful at traversing flat surfaces with some speed, so Cullen was not willing to release her with a set of stairs so nearby. 

“It's a temporary blessing,” Dorian agreed. “But I'll take it. The Maker only knows what kind of horrific pranks will be unleashed on us now that Sera has an army of tiny followers.” Cullen leaned into Dorian slightly, offering a bit of comfort to distract from the nightmare scenario unfolding before them. “It's of small benefit that this means I will likely get more time to myself in Skyhold. Sera can surely keep them entertained for at least a few hours each day.”

“Altus Pavus concerned about getting work done?” Cullen frowned at him in affected confusion. “I must say, I never thought such a day would come. Have I become a bad influence on you?”

“The very worst. I fear I've visited the same influence upon you as well. Carousing in the tavern during the day? People will talk! And just think, a few days ago we were plotting a devastating social attack on your sister. Happily, it appears we won't need it but you must agree that she'd never have seen it coming.”

“We shall see. It would be like her to lull me into a false sense of security.” Cullen glanced back towards his sister, who was currently removing dangerous items from her children's hands as Sera provided them. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion before turning back to Dorian. “She's hasn't…said anything to you, has she?”

Dorian smiled widely, amused at Cullen’s worry. “No, no. She hasn't been revealing your dark secrets, amatus. She only, ah, welcomed me, I suppose. To the family.”

“Did she?” Cullen asked with some surprise, smile erasing his frown lines. “Well, I suppose it is quite appropriate.” Cullen drew Dorian to him so they could have an awkward, squirmy family hug. Solona soon protested being compressed between her fathers, so the moment was short-lived. The Commander's vague statements continued to linger in Dorian’s subconscious, however, for several days after. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, folks. I went to bed super early last night and forgot all about posting a chapter! Feel free to shame me.


	19. Penult

South Reach was a non-trivial distance to travel, especially for a family of six, so Cullen continued to endure the happy agony of his family's company for nearly a month. In truth, he loved his family and the visit was actually proving to be quite enjoyable. His sister's teasing was really not as horrific as he remembered it being, he hadn't had the opportunity to meet many of his nieces and nephews before, and the quiet company of Mia’s husband, Daniel, made him feel less like a sullen bore when gathering in the tavern. Dorian and Mia had taken to each other better than he'd hoped and he often bumped into the two of them together on his way about Skyhold, trading gossip and stories while watching the children. All in all, it had been much more enjoyable than any of Cullen’s previous, and brief, trips home had been. It seemed lyrium likely destroyed lives in more ways than one. 

As Cullen tidied up the remaining reports and clutter on his desk in preparation for his departure to join everyone for the evening meal, he glanced up at the shabby, worn box sitting on top of his bookshelf. As his eyes landed on its surface he felt the familiar pull of the substance inside, a pull that had grown much weaker over the past few months. Dorian said that like called to like, that the lyrium still in his body made the cravings worse because it was trying to live. The lyrium needed more of itself to grow and flourish or else it would slowly be eroded away by his body's natural defenses. 

At least, that was the latest theory. Adaar had just returned from the Hinterlands the day before and had come straight to their quarters, Dagna in tow, to discuss her new findings with Dorian. Apparently while helping Varric and one of his contacts investigate a red lyrium mine they'd also learned some new information about what turned lyrium red. According to Varric’s friend, the Blight had infected lyrium too, just as it afflicted other creatures, turning it red and aggressive. 

It seemed nothing in this blighted world was safe from the Blight and Cullen had been rather depressed by the news. Dorian, however, found his scientific curiosity reinvigorated and spent several hours in animated discourse with the dwarf and qunari regarding the implications of this discovery, including whether lyrium was actually alive. Listening to their debate on the effects of the material in the body deeply reaffirmed for Cullen his choice to stop its use. He was beginning to consider it a miracle from the Maker that he was still living and cogent. When he reflected back on his time on the substance he found that his memories of his behavior, reactions, and thoughts made little sense to him anymore. Why had he hated mages so passionately? Why had any magic use left him so irritable and unsettled? Why had he been so blind to Meredith's insanity? Why had it all continued for so long? It was so obvious now that he had been wrong and not simply because of hindsight. 

The implications of the true purpose of lyrium were damning to the Chantry. He was quite sure that his cessation from lyrium had had minimal impact on his ability to deny magic. After the Winter Palace Dorian had insisted that he practice his abilities regularly, so as to track whether his smite was a unique event. It quickly became clear that Cullen was as effective a Templar as he'd ever been. So if lyrium  _ didn't  _ enhance magic nullification and only his feelings towards magic, that left only one purpose to administering lyrium to Templars...

Cullen was left so unsettled by these thoughts that he'd discussed it in depth with Dorian after the Inquisitor departed, staying up into the small hours of the morning. He'd never shared all of his experiences in the Templar order--first at Kinloch, then Kirkwall--in any detail before, but he knew Dorian couldn't constructively participate in an analysis of his memories without that knowledge. Furthermore, Cullen wanted him to know. It was bound to be revealed in time to the man and if they were to build a life together, Cullen wanted Dorian to understand all of him, not just the parts he'd seen. It had not been easy or pleasant but by the time he'd made it to his reason for introducing the topic he was glad he had. Dorian had moved through a range of reactions, first horrified by the fall of Kinloch then enraged by Cullen’s treatment afterwards. He'd finally settled at confused as Cullen described how he'd behaved in Kirkwall and his hatred of mages. 

Eventually Cullen could see that Dorian’s curiosity had become too much as he leaned forward to interrupt. “You clearly don't feel that way now. What changed?”

“That is partly why I've brought this to up now. I… I'm not entirely sure what brought about my change in thinking.” Cullen rubbed his forehead as though it would help clear his mind. “My memories of that time are hazy and irrational. I can recall my thoughts and feelings but they make little sense. I'd always believed in the Templar cause but that was because I believed it to uphold the Maker’s will. It wasn't some slavish devotion to the rule of a despotic Knight-Commander. The things Meredith had me do… I should have been questioning her orders much earlier, reporting her to the Seekers, even. It's very clear to me now that her actions were wrong and her justifications tenuous. I can't understand why I didn't think so at the time or how I came to change my mind, precisely.”

Dorian tapped his chin, deep concern on his face. “And you think lyrium might be to blame, I take it.” At Cullen’s nod, Dorian continued, “I quite agree with your suspicions. But I hardly think we should put you back on lyrium to confirm them.”

Cullen shuddered at the thought. “I want nothing to do with that substance. I think, at least, the treatments you have been administering have put the worst of my cravings to bed.”

Dorian smirked, clearly reflecting on the past few occasions in which he’d provided Cullen with massage therapy--occasions which had ended up with one of them inside the other until they were both spent. “It has been my  _ pleasure _ to assist, Commander,” the mage purred, moving forward to set about distracting Cullen from his worries. The subject of lyrium was not broached again that evening.

Cullen found his mind wandering back there now, however. He was never very adept at keeping his anxieties at bay. It was part of what made him an excellent strategist but it frequently had a negative impact on his quality of life. In this, though, he had some control.

Decision made, Cullen snatched the drab box from its dusty home and marched determinedly to the keep-facing exit of his office. The guard there jumped when the door opened abruptly and saluted nervously when she saw the frown on her Commander’s face. 

“See that this is disposed of properly,” he growled at her, not caring that the guard had done nothing to deserve his ire. He could apologize later, when he was finally free of the blue liquid entirely.

Cullen strode quickly across the bridge way and through the keep, hoping to be rid of his foul mood by the time he reached his quarters. His family did not deserve to bear any of the burden of his addiction and, furthermore, he did not want to field any prying questions. It had been a long time since he'd had to deal with anyone who felt entitled to inquire into his private thoughts. He and Dorian had begun to share some of that but it was currently only on a voluntary basis. Their involvement were still too new for Cullen to feel comfortable poking at things too deeply. 

Not so with Mia. She knew no boundaries when it came to Cullen and she exercised no restraint. Thus far Mia had only been interested in more mundane subject matter but Cullen knew it was only a matter of time before she was asking about why he'd left Kirkwall and all the gory details of the city crumbling into chaos. She had asked after some of it in her letters and he had simply ignored her questions which was sure to mean she was waiting to ask when he had no escape. 

Of course, because her presence was unwanted at that time, Mia was the first to greet him as he entered his quarters. Her and Dorian were sprawled in the floor while Solona used their legs as an obstacle course for crawling and climbing. Solona squealed cheerfully when she saw that Cullen had returned and began painstakingly making her way over to him. She was clearly very proud of her new skill so Cullen knelt and waited for her to reach him before sweeping her into a series of tummy kisses. 

It wasn't until her excited screeching had stopped and she was back on her way around the room that he noticed Dorian seemed rather subdued. He did a quick mental review of the events of the day and realized the likely cause of his partner’s mood immediately. 

“Do you want some company this evening?” Mia was asking as Cullen’s attention snapped back to the events around him. Mia was not talking to him, though. 

Dorian smiled briefly but it was a half-hearted effort. “You are sweet to offer but I think I've all I need. I hate to think that others aren't seeing me at my most charming.” The joke, if one had even been intended, fell flat. Mia simply gave him a pat on his shoulder and made to leave. 

As she passed her brother she gave him a quick, one-armed hug, whispering in his ear, “You be nice to him this evening. I can see that growl and he doesn't need that right now.”

Though he was still feeling peevish and petty, Cullen refrained from glaring after his sister as she left the suite. Instead he ignored the slight and began removing his armor so that he might better join in on the floor festivities. Dorian leaned his head onto Cullen’s shoulder as soon as the other man had settled in beside the mage. 

“It's Alexius all over again.” Dorian sighed, righting a wheeled duck before it could crash onto Solona’s tiny toes. “It's lucky I've no more father-figures, or I'd need to preemptively bring them to the Inquisitor for investigation. Well, there was that one slave who would give me sweets when I washed up before dinner. Do you think that's suspect? He's probably passed on by now, so we're likely safe.”

One of Solona’s hands slipped out from under her and Cullen flinched as she slammed her chin into a stuffed druffalo. She happily picked herself up, continuing in a short route back and forth between the druffalo and duck. “Has Adaar talked to you about her judgment? Asked for your preference?”

“She has, naturally, but I don't have one. I… can't form an objective opinion. One moment I think ‘Off with his head! Forget the bastard!’ and in the next I'm reminded of the first spell he taught me. I can't imagine a world without him but I'll never be safe in a world where he still lives.” 

“Have you not been living a life without him since you left Tevinter?” Cullen asked carefully. He shifted to grab Solona as she scooted by him to attack a stack of his old reports and turned her back towards her toys. 

Dorian smiled sadly. “I suppose so. Perhaps it won't be so different. You know… ,” Dorian paused only briefly before shifting the topic away from his father, “that sister of yours has remarkably good taste in fashion, despite her lineage. She complained vehemently about your fuzzy cloak for half an hour this afternoon. I didn't think anyone hated it more than me.”

Cullen laughed, entirely apathetic to the opinion of his sister in this matter. He suspected she might appreciate the warmth the garment provided. Solona was entertained by the shift in tone and crawled back over to join the merriment. She crawled straight over Dorian’s folded legs into his lap then sat up to pull and poke at his expression. Both men smiled, watching her antics happily until she began to pull on the ends of Dorian’s mustache. The mage grimaced, attempting to pry Solona away but only succeeded in making Solona laugh. Cullen eventually took pity on him and distracted the child with a rattle. He was only briefly successful as Solona soon began to whine and fuss. She was likely getting hungry. 

Dorian sighed. “So much for that happy moment. Shall we make our way over to the tavern for dinner? I'm of a mind to pass feeding duty off to the Chargers again.”

Cullen nodded in agreement, too exhausted to desire the task of shoveling food down his daughter's throat. Besides, it was endlessly entertaining to watch Bull maneuver the tiny, Solona-sized spoon and somehow every Charger ended up a mess whenever they took on the chore of supper time. Cullen eagerly anticipated the show. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been writing anything new since I finished this story up a few weeks ago. I thought I'd take a break and then get back into it with some other ideas I had or perhaps finish up some of the other ideas I had for this story in the form of future vignettes or perhaps a short post-Trespasser story but I haven't really started that yet. So that may or may not be coming in the near future.
> 
> Let me know if you think either an entirely new story or a follow up story to this one would be of interest to you!


	20. Judgment

Adaar cut an impressive figure seated on her spiny Inquisition throne. It magnified the fierce expression on her face as Halward was escorted away from the throne in chains. Chains that would be the elder Pavus’ only accessories for the remainder of his life. 

Dorian was perversely relieved that his father’s life would be spared. Josephine had recommended it, pointing out that the political consequences to executing a prominent legislative figure of a country with historically poor relations with the south could be catastrophic. 

The request for clemency from Tevinter had arrived only a few hours before the judgment, conveyed personally by a Tevene ambassador. It was typically self-serving: the message condemned the use of blood magic and it's practitioners but asked the Inquisitor be certain of the facts before handing down punishment. Tevinter would respect her sentence, the Ambassador claimed, but asked that Adaar show mercy as no evidence of blood magic existed, save the testimony of a troubled son. The double talk infuriated Adaar and had Cullen clenching and unclenching his fists in impotent anger. It was a miracle the Ambassador was able to leave the war room unscathed. 

Once the sycophantic representative had departed, Adaar announced that she couldn't trust the Magister outside his cell. She was unwilling to entertain any alternative sentencing that allowed him any kind of freedoms or access to the outside world. There would be no research arrangement as Alexius had received. Leliana had questioned the wisdom of leaving him alive at all to which Josephine reiterated the political risks his execution would create. After that point Dorian had lost the thread of the discussion, focusing instead on Cullen’s hand on his shoulder. 

Eventually it had been agreed that Halward would remain in Skyhold’s dungeon indefinitely, until such time as he proved to be no longer useful to the Inquisition’s cause. The threat, Adaar assured him, was empty, but Dorian found he didn't mind the idea of it being true. Halward would be given the chance, however small, to repent, and that was all Dorian required. Should his father attempt something foolish, like escape, then he'd get no more than he deserved. Dorian chose not to follow the thread of his contradictory thoughts any further than that, satisfied with the fact that the idea wasn't upsetting. 

Josephine had asked him to meet with her privately after the advisory meeting concluded. It had begun with the expected condolences about his father then delicately segued into questions about his father's seat in the Magisterium. Dorian hadn't given a thought to the political role since he'd left Tevinter, knowing it would never become an issue for him. His father had promised to disown him, after all, so he'd never inherit it or anything else of the Pavus family. 

According to Josie, though, this had never happened. He was still his father's heir. The news was far more upsetting than he might have expected and he found himself wishing he had the ability to disown his father while he shouted at Josephine that he knew her information to be wrong. A few calming breaths and an apology later, he promised to consider what he thought the best way of handling the situation might be. 

Adaar, of course, thought it made perfect sense for Dorian to step into the role immediately, acting as an Inquisition ally and informal ambassador to Tevinter. Of course such an idea would be foolhardy and likely get him killed as enemies and allies of his father, plus any Inquisition enemies, would be out for Dorian’s head. Josephine was wholly against Dorian directly ascending to the position for this reason and suggested he select someone to accept the role on his behalf and perhaps act as a proxy for the foreseeable future. 

Dorian hadn't brought the issue to Cullen yet, peaking a glance at the other man at his side while he considered whether he should mention it now. Most of the population of Skyhold was filing out of the main hall now that the main event of the day was complete. It was probably the most privacy they'd have until the evening and right now Dorian had the advantage of Cullen’s distraction. Perhaps the man wouldn't worry too much about Tevinter if he was thinking about the Emprise. 

“I expect you to start using the appropriate form of address, you know,” he began casually, “now that my father is officially imprisoned for life.”

Cullen turned with a frown. “Pardon?”

“My title. Magister Pavus has a nice ring to it, don't you think?” Dorian asked, continuing to force a relaxed tone, though some of his anger was bleeding through. He glanced briefly up from his nails at the Commander to confirm that he was putting together the pieces as intended.

The frown deepened until it was closer to a scowl. “Your father isn’t to be put to death. Why would you inherit his title?”

“Tevinter custom. No Magister has held his or her seat after imprisonment since before the Qunari invasion. My father has enough enemies to ensure that his seat will be stripped and passed to his heir by the end of the week.” Dorian paused, hoping to add a little flare to his reveal. “Despite my father's vows to disinherit me, according to Josie he never did so. Before you know it, I truly will be a scheming Tevinter Magister!”

Cullen seemed to be having several reactions, none of them pleasant, all at once. Finally he managed to construct a thought. “Will you be heading back to Tevinter, then?” His tone held a deep sadness that cut right through Dorian. He immediately regretted the method of his presentation. 

“No! No, no, no, amatus, I would rather face down Corypheus with a blunt dagger. Adaar has mentioned the possibility but Josephine shot her down.” Dorian continued to reassure the Commander in panicked, rapid-fire speech of the circumstances surrounding his new legislative position. By the time he'd run out of breath, Cullen appeared more irritated than despondent so Dorian considered his job done. 

“If I am understanding the situation correctly, it seems likely that more assassination attempts are in your future, love.” Cullen seemed unable to remain still and placed a guiding hand at Dorian’s elbow to start moving him in the direction of their rooms. 

“Perhaps. The typical practice is to make a few clumsy attempts at a new Magister while he makes a few obvious passes in return. It should be at most a mild annoyance.” Now that Dorian was moving, he was eager to see Solona again and quickened his pace. 

“I had thought that with the threat of your father removed and Solona sleeping most nights that you might soon return to field work. With this, though, it would be wise to continue to delay.”

“I have too many irons in the fire here to go back to field work anytime soon.” Dorian hands began to dance wildly as he warmed to the topic of his research. “There is much work to do in my investigation of Corypheus and I have yet to make much headway with all this lyrium nonsense. Gathering together a willing group of Templar is--”

“What do you mean?” Cullen asked, confused. “Since you've started your massage I've not had any pains to speak of. It's like I've regained my youth. What more is there to do?”

Dorian shook his head with affectionate disdain. “I'm afraid I'd simply bore you with the details. Suffice it to say, you are but one case study, my dear. I will need a large sampling of strapping Templars to treat or not treat to draw any conclusion.”

“Sounds more like you are trying to build yourself a harem.” Cullen groused. His frown turned sly, though, as a new thought occurred. “You must truly be a Magister now.”

“Hmph,” Dorian murmured, not dignifying the tease with a response and pointedly looking away. “It'll be some time yet before I have to return to Tevinter. Corypheus is more important. But, assuming there is an after… I will be returning. I don't know that I could ever guarantee Solona’s safety, or your own, for that matter, but…” Dorian finally looked back at Cullen, a carefully hopeful expression fixed on his face, “Would you come with me?”

They had made it to their rooms without Dorian noticing. Cullen smiled at him before turning to open the door. Krem greeted them quietly, informing them that Solona was still napping as he made to exit. Dorian didn't register much of it, too anxious at the plea left hanging between them. 

Cullen dragged him over to Solona’s doorway so they could both peek in on her sleeping form. A hand rubbed soothingly along Dorian’s arm and he was again overwhelmed by the love he felt for his child. He and Cullen had discussed how intrusive it felt to watch her sleep but agreed it was difficult to resist all the same. She was so small and peaceful. 

He stepped back, irrationally afraid of waking her with his eyes, and moved to the seating area. Cullen joined him, taking Dorian’s hands as he did so. 

“We are a family now.” he stated simply, shaking Dorian’s hands for emphasis. “It will take more than Tevinter to rid you of us.”

Dorian grinned in relief. “Well, I had hoped that was the case but I didn't want to presume anything. We hadn't spoken of anything… after Corypheus and we've made nothing… official.”

Cullen reached for Dorian, bringing him in closer til they were breathing the same air. “Know that I want to. Make things official, I mean. It's just with… everything… I don't want to make any promises. I know it's silly but I feel as though it would be a curse and everything we have would fall apart.” Cullen paused, moving back again to look over at Solona’s doorway. “Once this is done, though, I would be honored to join you in Tevinter. Very officially.”

Dorian smiled, anticipating the future scandal that would cause. “I won't hold you to that, on penalty of angering Fereldan superstitions. Besides, Tevinter won't welcome you. I doubt you would be too pleased with it, either. I know how you feel about unregulated magic. And slavery. And the heat. “ Dorian frowned. “I'm afraid there's not much about Tevinter for you to like, amatus. Perhaps we could keep a summer home in the south or something. Nothing lavish, of course, we want you comfortable…”

Cullen eyes were wide as he gave Dorian’s hands another shake to get his attention. “Summer home?” he choked out. 

Dorian cocked his head to the side slightly, smiling benignly. “Certainly. You wouldn't want to dash off halfway across the world and never see your family and friends again, would you? I know that  _ I  _ don't want our daughter growing up entirely entrenched in Tevinter politics. I am all too familiar with that kind of childhood.” Dorian shuddered for effect. “Besides, I have a suspicion that Adaar will still be requesting our help from time to time. It would be more economical to maintain a residence here as well.”

Cullen still didn't seem entirely convinced of the idea, a somewhat dazed expression on his face as he reflected on the amount of wealth Dorian had likely just inherited. Dorian touched his cheek, becoming concerned at his silence. “We can discuss this later, my dear. After all, we don't want to accidentally make any plans or promises.”

Cullen leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of Dorian’s mouth. He smirked a bit as Dorian’s expression immediately began to glaze. “Please, plan away. I look forward to it all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! I haven't yet written anything additional, so it'll be awhile before you see anything else. I've had a very busy, unrelaxing two weeks off doing shit around the house that needs doing (tiling a bathroom, woo :/), so all of this has been very far from my mind. As I've set this pair off on a very un-canon future path, I would like to write up a Trespasser or other epilogue chapter or two. If I do, I'll probably add it here instead of posting it separately. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! Is there anything more you wanted to see that never happened (I might have forgotten something)? Does this make sense as an ending? Did I write too much? I have so many questions for you, readers. 
> 
> Speaking of, thank you so much for all your comments! They've really helped a lot--both in motivating me and in improving the story. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> ...If you didn't enjoy it, I would question why you've read all the way to the postscript of the final chapter.


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